How My Boss Drove Me Insane
by Denoument
Summary: -Crack Fic- Xemnas is CEO of the Cardiac Research Center. Having lost his old secretary, he hires Demyx, but they always seem to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Zexion thinks they might be stalking him. Akuroku, XigLux, mild Zemyx.
1. First Days

**_This was co-written by Akane Arihyoshi and Razori-chan. It was written by Akane, and thought-up by Razori._**

Authors: Akane Arihyoshi and Razori-chan.

**_WARNING_**: I want to warn every single one of you right now. This is a Xemnas/Demyx implied relationship fic. This isn't very serious, it's almost pure crack, but there will be instances where Xemnas and Demyx are in very compromising positions. Of course, Demyx being Demyx, only Xemnas will get the perverseness of the situation, so it's kind of innocent. There won't be any serious intentional kissing (unless they're drunk or something that discredits the choice being made freely), or fluff, or anything of the sort, so if you're a fan of Demyx/Someone Else, it's still pretty safe to read.

Author's Note: Razori and I...were pretty much on a sugar high when she thought this one up. We were watching Law and Order SVU, and somehow the topic of Xemnas/Demyx came up, and she started fleshing out the plot for a story. It was very fun to think up compromising positions for them to be in, but...the whole plot started with a cross-dressing Demyx...who will hopefully come into the next chapter. I almost feel bad to be writing something that isn't Zemyx (even is Xemyx is still pronounced the same), but Razori insists that this pairing is adorable. Ah well. I like to write and so I gave in. But make sure to check out her other stories.

**_KAY SO THIS IS LIKE...SERIOUSLY IMPORTANT SO PAY ATTENTION PEOPLE:_ The first part in Zexion speaking, and then the rest of the story is told in third-person, except for when Zexion comes into the story, since he's the one telling it. When the story says "I" in something that isn't dialogue, think Zexion.**

* * *

That was the day I resigned.

I couldn't take it anymore. When you constantly walk in on your boss and his personal secretary in compromising positions during work hours, you start to go a little insane. But when they start to pop up in your other jobs too, almost like they're stalking you, insane stops being a word and starts being a way of life. After they showed up at two of my other part-time jobs, and I saw them at work over twenty times at least (no, I'm not kidding. They're disgusting), I, Zexion Ishida, decided that if this went on, I would have no choice but to kill myself. Being a general pacifist, this was hardly an appealing concept, so I resigned.

Not to mention that their damn personal security guard took pictures. And constantly left them around my workplace. Damn you, Xigbar. Damn you.

Maybe I'm getting a little ahead of myself. You readers, being generally sane people, probably have no idea what I'm talking about. If you did, you'd hardly be alive to be reading this. Or, if you were still alive, your eyes would still have been too far gone and beyond repair.

Let's start at the beginning, shall we?

It all began with a cross-dressing secretary, on the day I started my part-time job at the cardiology research center. Of course, the cross-dresser was very feminine. I couldn't tell the difference. So my first impression of my new boss was that he was a major pervert.

The following is the account of everything that happened during the course of my job, the whole truth, as I later learned it to be. By no means did I know everything at the time it was happening. In fact, it was explained to me about two days ago. I digress.

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

It was so... big.

He worked in THAT building?

Demyx stopped someone going into the building in front of him. "Sir, is this building the Cardiac Research Center?"

"No, son. It's that one over there."

Demyx turned around to observe the building behind him that the man had pointed to. He blinked. That thing was so damn tiny he wasn't sure if his desk could even fit in it.

Okay, so it was average sized, but compared to the buildings around it looked like a pebble next to a boulder.

"T-Thank you, sir," Demyx stammered, before walking into the specified building.

He was immediately assaulted by a pirate.

Upon closer inspection, he realized that it was just a man with long hair and an eye patch. But he looked like a pirate at first glance. Totally justifiable mistake. Most importantly, he was _still _being assaulted by the not-pirate, which was NOT okay.

Okay, so the not-pirate had removed himself from Demyx's body. That was good. But he had drawn a very large and painful looking gun and pointed it at Demyx's head. That was not so good. Demyx stammered uncontrollably. In his mind, he was telling the man to back away and put that lethal-looking object back in his pouch, but that wasn't what the man heard. The pirate lifted the one showing eye brow in an attempt to look confused. It didn't work, instead he looked rather surprised, but the intent was clear.

"I-I'm the n-new secretary...!" Demyx managed, holding his hands far above his head. The man laughed.

"Shoot, you thought this was a gun?" he asked happily, pointing the pointy object at Demyx's heart. Demyx gulped audibly.

"Y-Yes!" he cried, shaking. The not-pirate threw his head back in laughter. He pulled the trigger, and Demyx braced himself for the impact, but opened an eye when nothing happened.

The other man was smiling. "It's a video camera," he said coolly, pointing it at Demyx's head. "Say hi."

Demyx waved a bit. "Good boy. This won't hurt you. By the way, I'm Xigbar. Call me Xiggy and I'll eat your soul. I'm the security guard at this place. Not that anyone's stupid enough to try anything here."

"Heya Xiggy. I'm Demyx."

Xigbar stared at Demyx for a second. Then he grinned. "I like you already, kid. You're the first one to not listen to me in a long time. I guess I'd better introduce you to your boss, huh? His name is Xemnas. You don't need to know his last name, because I never cared enough to ask and so I can't tell you."

Demyx nodded. "Fair enough."

"He's somewhere around here," Xigbar stated obviously, looking around the smallish building with his one eye carefully narrowed. "Aha. That's him, right there," he said, pointing. "Hey boss! C'mere. Fresh blood," he grinned, pointing to Demyx.

A man with long silver hair turned to look at Xigbar. His eyes shifted to Demyx. "Who's he, Xigbar?" he asked, bored. "Not another one of your drunken pals come to see you again, is it?"

"No, sir. This one's pretty damn sober, if I do say so myself. And he actually works for you. Funny thing, actually, he's your secretary."

Xemnas looked surprised. "He is?" he asked, intrigued, looking Demyx over.

"Mm-hmm. Yep. Ever since Saix went berserk and quit, you've been looking for one, right? So I hired one for you. Happy birthday."

Xemnas went visibly pale at the sound of Saïx's name. "I told you to never speak of him again," he hissed, making it sound like one very drawn out word in his haste. He glowered for a second at Xigbar, and then suddenly his expression became confused. "Xigbar?"

"Yeah?"

"…My birthday was three months ago."

Xigbar sighed. "So this is a little bit belated. Bite me."

Xemnas shook his head. "Xigbar, why do I keep you around?"

Xigbar had to think for a second about that one. "To…protect you from terrorists that don't exist?" he suggested. Xemnas pondered this.

"That's a good answer. You can keep your job."

Xigbar grinned. "Radical," he said cheerfully. "Well Xemnas, sorry I can't stay, but I gotta go watch the cameras. Those damn terrorists work round-the-clock, you know."

"Of course they do. Back to work."

"Yessir. Play nice, you two."

Xigbar walked off, and Demyx was left feeling abandoned in the face of danger. He shyly looked up at his new boss. Xemnas smiled, but it was a strange one, as if the muscles in his face had forgotten long ago how to smile innocently without looking like an axe-murderer. This, although meant to comfort Demyx, did not help his nerves in the slightest. "So you're the new secretary," Xemnas stated.

"Y-Yes sir," Demyx stammered.

"Your name?"

"D-Demyx, sir."

Xemnas examined Demyx's face thoughtfully. "Cheer up. You'll do. It's time to show you to your work-place."

Demyx only realized that Xemnas was walking away when the man had gotten ten feet away. He ran to catch up. Passing a few people that Demyx didn't recognize, they headed for a door to the side. Xemnas opened it. "This is your desk, my room is through that door over there," said Xemnas, pointing, before slamming the door shut. "Now let's go meet your colleagues!"

Xemnas strode over to another door and opened it. Inside a blonde male was working diligently, pouring a precise amount of liquid into a smoking beaker. Or it would have been precise, if he had been left alone. "Vexen!"

There was a small explosion as the man, Dr. Vexen Carr, dumped a lot more liquid than he was supposed to into the beaker. Once the smoke cleared, Vexen emerged, singed eyebrows coming together in sheer fury.

"YOU RUINED MY EXPERIMENT!" he screeched, fist waving through the air.

Xemnas took a step back. "Yes, well, Demyx, this is Vexen. And-now-its-time-to-go-bye-Vexen!" he said, dragging Demyx out of the room before bodily harm could befall his new employee.

Opening another door, Xemnas escaped through it, stopping short at the sight of a red-headed male and his blonde friend quite preoccupied. "Ah, well, I…" Xemnas stuttered, blushing. The red-head looked up.

"Ah! Hello Xemnas! Roxas and I are testing the effects of the game Twister on the heart-rate," he said casually. The other man, Roxas, nodded. They were currently deeply involved in a heated game of Twister, with Axel winning and Roxas rather off-balanced. Another blonde male looked up from his position in the corner, where he was holding the spinner.

"Luxord, why aren't you working?" Xemnas asked irritably. Luxord shrugged.

"Technically, I am working. I'm helping Axel and Roxas here, right boys?"

Axel and Roxas nodded, this movement causing Roxas to fall over, which in turn made Axel fall on top of him. "Oww…"

Xemnas grabbed a tissue and held it against his bleeding nose.

Axel frowned. "I'm so sorry, Roxy," he whined, planting a small kiss on Roxas's nose. Roxas blushed furiously, but reached up and locked his lips onto Axel's. Xemnas's nose erupted with blood.

"YOU TWO STOP THAT AND GET BACK TO WORK!" he yelled around the overflow of blood.

They weren't listening. Luxord was looking a bit sheepish, and Xigbar had suddenly appeared in the room, pointing his video camera at the pair and taping the whole thing.

Demyx sighed. High school was supposed to be over, damn it.

* * *

A/N: So what do you guys think? This will be continued.

Review. Just hit the little purple button and tell us what you think of this utter crack.

-Akane (And Razori most likely has the same feelings about the reviewing, but Akane is writing this.)


	2. First Impressions

**_This was co-written by Akane Arihyoshi and Razori-chan. It was written by Akane, and thought-up by Razori._**

Authors: Akane Arihyoshi and Razori-chan.

Author's note: And here, we finally get to the point in the story that Razori actually thought up first, I had lots of fun writing this...so, I hope you all like it.

* * *

Demyx was dragged out of the room by Xemnas, who claimed that there were still more people to meet. Demyx, after having met six people already (Roxas, Axel, Xigbar, Luxord, Vexen, and the janitor, Lexaeus, whom he met as the older male was walking into the room to mop up the rather alarming puddle of blood on the floor), figured that there couldn't possibly be very many more, and so he followed with some enthusiasm.

A few of the building's secretaries were introduced quickly in passing, and then quickly forgotten. In one ear and out the other, as they say, although Demyx rarely ever _got_ those vague references to different body parts and their functions. He could have sworn that ears with an input-only thing, but he had been wrong before.

One thing he did notice was that all those secretaries were women. It made him feel slightly self-conscious, but he chalked that up to first-day jitters (which he then chalked up to calling his nervousness 'jitters'. Nervousness is a very respectable emotion, and did not appreciated those who called it jitters. It's name was Nervous, damn it. Or sometimes Butterflies. It digressed and hung its head in shame.) and such.

Xemnas, seemingly becoming bored with this tour, abruptly turned around and led Demyx back to the front of the building, where his office was located. He opened the door, pointed in the general direction of the desk outside his office, and exited the room through a conveniently located door. Demyx sighed and went about doing…whatever it is that secretaries do. (The author has absolutely no idea, not being out of high school herself, and not really inclined to pay attention to whatever it is that the office staff do at her school.)

This arrangement worked out quite nicely, and Demyx found himself quite relaxed once he was able to start doing what he was being paid to be doing. It went on for a few more hours, with Demyx only getting distracted by the screensaver (which, to be fair, was actually pretty addicting) once, which he thought was pretty good progress.

All the sudden, the door to the hallway flew open with a bang, Xigbar standing there looking excited, but whether or not it was a good excitement Demyx didn't really bother to find out, as, at the loud noise, he had grabbed the letter opener, and was now brandishing it at the door in an attempt to ward off whatever demon monster he believed was there. Upon realizing that it was Xigbar, he dropped the letter opener. And he picked up the stapler.

"State your business," he said sharply. "Or I will fill you so full of staples you'll be primarily made of metal."

Xigbar looked shocked. "Geez, man…" he said. "You're quick. Usually it takes secretaries _weeks _to learn to respond like that to my entrance. You understood it in like, what? Two hours?"

Demyx shrugged. "I had a cousin that went a little wacko one year after he fell off his tricycle. Kept bursting through doors shouting at us. Never knew when he was going to go a little crazy…"

The one-eyed man looked a little shocked. "That poor kid," he mused. "Going crazy at such a young age…"

Demyx looked at Xigbar with an odd look on his face. "He was twenty-seven."

Xigbar looked confused. "But, the tricycle…"

Demyx sighed. "Why was a twenty-seven year old riding a trike? Yeah. We got that a lot…personally, I think that's the reason he fell off. Some deity saw him riding that thing and decided to put him out of his misery, but missed. Poor guy."

Xigbar just looked a little lost. "Why did I come in this room?"

"I dunno. Why did you?"

"…maybe…I wanted to see Xemnas?"

"I would only imagine," Demyx said cheerily. He walked over to Xemnas' office door and pulled it open.

Xigbar strode in casually. "Xemnas."

The was a sigh and the sound of papers moving around. "What do you want, Xigbar?"

Xigbar paused. "I don't know. But I'd like to inform you that I stopped by."

Another pause. "That's…very nice, Xigbar. Get back to work."

"Yessir."

Xigbar strode out of the room, closed the door, bid Demyx adieu, and walked right back out into the hallway.

Demyx sighed lightly, and then went over to Xemnas' office door, opening it again. "Does he usually do that?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes. Quite a bit. You'll get used to it. Just grab whatever heavy blunt object is nearest to you when he arrives and you'll be perfectly safe."

"Ah. I see."

Xemnas looked up briefly, looked back down at his papers, and then did a double take. He laughed. "I'm sorry, it's just…most secretaries are women, it's almost disconcerting to see a male one. What got you into this profession anyway?"

"The lack of marketable skills? The lack of a college degree in anything but music? The lack of common sense to realize _while _I was in college that my degree would be perfectly useless to me? I don't know. A fast typing speed and ADHD?"

"If the last is the case, you're overqualified."

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

The next day, Demyx showed up for work precisely on time. He went straight to the office, sat down, and got to work promptly, after a short break in which his eyes were directed to the screen saver addictively. He took a few papers from a small tray on the desk and started typing. He was actually quite productive, until…

"Holy mythical kingdoms. What the hell happened to you? Were you mugged? Did they do anything improper to you?"

Demyx, who was actually looking quite presentable, looked up, confused. "Sir?"

"You poor child. I'm sure I've got a change of clothes in here somewhere," Xemnas said idly, looking around the small office.

"S-sir? I don't need them…"

"Of course you do, Demyx. You're wearing a skirt, high-heels, and a blouse. While they look very stylish on you, it's just…not right."

"I know I am. You really think it looks nice?" Demyx asked, standing up and examining his reflecting in a conveniently placed mirror. Xemnas' jaw nearly dropped down to the floor.

"D-Demyx, did you…stuff your shirt?" he stuttered, moving towards Demyx in disbelief. The boy turned.

"Of course I did. What, you think they're real?"

"I don't…I just…but…why?"

"You said most secretaries are women. I want to excel in this field. So, maybe it's not setting my goals very high, but I think I'm doing a damn good job, you know?"

Xemnas sighed, then lightly poked a bit at Demyx's chest, as if seeing for himself that his secretary was really only a male transvestite.

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

(A/N: This is Zexion talking, remember. He's telling the story.)

That's when I happened to walk inside the room.

That day was my very first one at the cardiology research center. I had met Xigbar, who had forced me to meet Axel, Roxas, Luxord, Lexaeus (Who, for some reason, looked dead on his feet as he mopped at a giant puddle of blood), and Vexen. Now, he told me, I was to meet my boss, a Mister Xemnas. I had hoped that it would be a relatively painless gesture.

Instead, my first impression of my boss was that he was a pervert.

You know the saying, "You can never have another chance at a first impression"? Yeah. Now I'm starting to get what that means. And it's not pleasant. The first time I ever saw my boss, he was in the process of sexually harassing his personal secretary. Please keep in mind that this was the first time I had ever seen Demyx. How was I supposed to know that he was, well…a guy? From what I saw, Xemnas was in the middle of inappropriately touching a woman.

Dream job, right? Great boss, perfectly sane security guard, a sweet-tempered scientist as a lab partner, two perfectly straight co-workers, another nice co-worker, and a mild-mannered janitor.

Except, I had none of those. Xemnas was a pervert, Xigbar belonged in a mental institution where he would be watched 24/7, Vexen hated life, the universe, and everything that related to either of those two, Roxas and Axel were blatantly gay and obviously not scientists in the least, Luxord needed to go to the same place as Xigbar, and Lexaeus needed to find a happy place. _Badly. _

You know how some people are absolutely convinced that everything is absolutely perfect, and that somehow, if you just keep a good attitude about something, in the end, everything will be okay? The people that seem to convince themselves that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger?

At that moment, I wanted to bludgeon every single last one of them in the most painfully slow way I knew how.

And I'm a _pacifist._

* * *

Author's Note: I absolutely loved the line "Lexaeus needed to find a happy place. Badly." XD Is that just me? And...oh, there was another one...let me think..."State your business, or I will fill you so full of staples you'll be primarily made of metal." XD I...loved it. God, those were so fun to write...

The part she thought up first was the whole Demyx-cross-dressing-because-Xemnas-told-him-that-most-secretaries-are-women thing. Which was completely hilarious, and so we fleshed out a plot to go with it.

Razori would like to point out that the review button is actually periwinkle. Akane thinks that periwinkle is a stupid name, and so it'll be purple. What do you guys think?

Review.

-Akane


	3. I Just Don't Get It

_**This was co-written by Akane Arihyoshi and Razori-chan. It was written by Akane, and thought-up by Razori.**_

Title: How My Boss Drove Me Insane

Authors: Akane Arihyoshi and Razori-chan.

Disclaimer: You can't measure how much I wish I owned Kingdom Hearts. Not even if you use the metric system, fools.

(No, I'm not actually that stupid.)

* * *

"S-Sir, I…oh…I guess…uhm…sir…I…I-I'll just…go. Yeah," I stammered, before I turned around to leave the room.

Demyx later told me that I fainted. I guess that must be true. All I remember is waking up some time later in a completely different room, being watched by the janitor, who was looking exasperated and on the verge of tears because of what I assumed was a lack of sleep and a general frustration at the fact that this was the last room he had to clean before he went home, and I was using it as a bedroom. I stood, made my apologies to Lexaeus, and left the room. I then walked over to Xigbar, who was watching several middle schoolers on a screen as they walked by the security cameras muttering something about 'small terrorists', and informed him that I was going home, before I went out the front doors in the direction of a small café, intending to rethink my career choices, and feeling thoroughly screwed over by the idiots at human resources.

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

Xemnas stared at the door that Xigbar, carrying Zexion, had just exited. "Demyx…?" he whispered, turning back to face his secretary.

"Yes?"

"That didn't just happen. Repeat after me, that didn't just happen."

"That didn't just happen."

"Yes."

"Xemnas?"

"Yes, Demyx?"

"…What didn't just happen?"

Xemnas sighed. "Nothing, Demyx. Nothing."

"Right."

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

The next few days were surprisingly quiet for the CRC. Xemnas got whatever a CEO does done with little effort, Demyx increased his typing speed to just under the speed of light, and Xigbar almost maimed a schoolgirl who he swore was using her bubble-gum-blowing abilities to offset the entire universe's balance and use every last kitten in the world against the Cardiac Research Center.

On another surprising note, Xigbar was let out of jail two days later on a technicality.

But as some very wise man said, all things that go up must come back down. Nothing like the CRC can stay normal for very long. It would interrupt the space time continuum. Or it would…do something else that's threatening. I don't know, this is more Vexen's area than mine. He's into theories like that. I'm more into solid fact. **Fact**: No one actually knows what would happen if Xigbar and the CRC were normal for a large amount of time. **Fact**: No one wants to find out.

But I digress.

Like I said, it was a quiet as it gets there. Even I had stopped being so paranoid and had returned to work after some light convincing (read: blackmailing) from Vexen, who, it seemed, really needed the help. I figured that the day I had started was just an off day for the entire company, with the exception of Xigbar, who was just like that.

Then came the day that I was to hand in a report to Xemnas. I can't remember what was in it, probably some of Vexen's speculations about life and its utter worthlessness. In any case, Xemnas asked to see it, and after a quick game of rock-paper-scissors Vexen and I decided that I would be the one to bring the report to him.

So I went up the stairs (for some reason, Vexen's lab was in the basement.), and entered Xemnas' office.

My jaw dropped.

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

Xemnas sighed. There had been carpenters in his office day and night for the past two days now, trying to repair a rather large hole in the wall that Xigbar caused on one of his cheery visits. The hammering was going to drive him insane. Looking up, he saw that his cup of coffee was dangerously close to being empty, which added to his irritation. He quickly debated the merits of getting up and getting his drink himself, but deduced that he was, in fact, too busy being annoyed to have any possible success. So he called for Demyx.

Demyx opened the door and smiled at Xemnas cheerily. "Yes sir?"

Xemnas looked up from where he was holding his forehead in an attempt to soothe his headache. "Coffee," he grunted.

Demyx nodded. "Coffee. Right," he replied, walking off into the hallway, his shoes making an annoying clicking noise on the tile floor. Xemnas groaned.

A few minutes later, Demyx returned, bearing the hot drink and bringing a general happiness upon his boss. He turned to leave, but Xemnas stopped him.

"Demyx, your skirt is caught on a nail," he stated coolly. Demyx turned, blushing.

"Is it really?" he asked, attempting to pull it of with little success. After watching him for a few seconds, Xemnas sighed and stood.

"Here, Demyx, let me help you…" he said, walking over to where Demyx was and pulling his skirt up and off the nail.

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

Then I walked in. And saw my boss in the process of lifting his secretary's skirt up. My jaw dropped before I could recover, and a blush made its way across my face.

"Sir…" I said, gaping. Then, coughing and averting my eyes, I dumped the long report on his desk and exited the room, stepping aside and allowing Xigbar to go in with his video camera at the ready.

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

Xemnas blushed furiously. His hand didn't move from Demyx's skirt for quite some time, much to the amusement of Xigbar. When he finally lowered his hand, it was only to put his face in his hands, with what sounded like a strangled sob.

Demyx blushed a bit, looked at Xemnas, then turned to look at Xigbar with a confused look on his face. "Xiggy?" he asked quietly, so as not to disturb Xemnas, who had retired to a corner of his office and was rocking back and forth with his arms around his knees.

"Yes, Dem?"

"I…"

"Yeah?"

"I don't…I don't get it."

Xigbar collapsed in a fit of laughter.

* * *

A/N: Sorry it was so short, but that's all I could coax out of it...neh. You get what you get, guys.

Razori and I were instant messaging each other as I wrote this. We decided that the nail thing was first on the agenda, and we've got something very special for you all for the next two chapters. Xigbar's gonna go on a rampage...and it involves sugar. You know this can't be good.

Happy Belated Zemyx Day. I'm celebrating by posting a story chapter with Demyx in a pairing that isn't Zemyx. Someone shoot me for my evilness, please. I feel kinda bad about this...heh. What a Zemyx fan I turned out to be. **(Well, at least it was right after Zemyx Day when this was originally posted...whatever.) **

Review, kay? I worked hard on this...plus, Razori says that if you review, she'll bake you cupcakes with a chewy yaoi center. She's not a bad cook, either.

-Akane


	4. Rum Cake

**_This story was co-written by Akane Arihyoshi and Razori-chan. It was written by Akane, and thought-up by Razori._**

**Authors:** Akane Arihyoshi and Razori-chan

**Disclaimer: **Good ol' Kingdom Hearts. Wish I owned it. If I did, Marluxia would stop being such an arrogant prick all the time (he'd still be one 99 percent of the time), and Sora would have a long, drawn-out death in Riku's arms, declaring his love for Riku and his utter hate for Kairi before, seconds before dying, Roxas suddenly reappears, which kills Sora, and is swept into Axel's arms because he's miraculously not dead. Riku would then kill himself because of Sora, Axel and Roxas would kill Kairi because she's pitiful, and they would ride off into the sunset to go rejoin the Organization, every member of which has suddenly come back to life in a miraculous burst of plot-hole-ness. And then all the nobodies would get hearts out of nowhere, and Xaldin would re-die, because no one likes him.

Yeah. Just read the story already.

* * *

Xigbar snuck quietly behind Demyx, who was rustling some papers at the copy machine

busily. His grin grew wider as he got directly behind the blond, and reached out slowly to tap him on the shoulder…

…and then he heard a click.

Next thing the poor man knew, the secretary pulled out a water gun and pointed it at Xigbar's head with a flourish, wagging his finger. "What made you think you could do that, Xiggy?" he said casually, flicking the trigger and sending a trickle of water shooting out into the one-eyed man's face.

Xigbar blinked quickly, then opened his eyes (Well, _eye,_) and stared Demyx down. "How did you do that? I was totally invisible!"

Demyx sighed. "Xigbar, you're wearing a black ninja uniform, and the walls are pastel."

"Foiled again."

"Yeah. Again. What do you want, Xiggy?"

"Demyx, how would you like to solidify your femininity by helping me with my shopping errand?"

"Tempting, but I really do have to get these done," Demyx said coolly, turning back to go to Xemnas' office and use his printer. Xigbar stopped him quickly.

"No, Dem, it has to be now. It's a surprise party for Xemnas!"

"Why would he need a surprise party? His birthday was four months ago, and he hasn't been promoted. Seeing as he's the CEO, and all."

"You're so narrow-minded. Why in hell would we need a reason?"

"You know, that's a fair point."

"But, in fact, this party does have a reason. A very important reason, Demmy. Very important," Xigbar said, pulling Demyx to a secluded area where they wouldn't be overheard. This was a very unneeded measure, since Xemnas, Demyx, and Xigbar were the only ones actually working today (it was actually a holiday, but Xemnas required Demyx and Xigbar to be at work whenever he was, and he was a workaholic), and Xemnas was in his office, but Xigbar was very paranoid about the security camera, despite the fact that it was he who watched them, and he wasn't in his station, so he couldn't discriminate against himself because of video footage. But he was paranoid anyway, because he wasn't the brightest crayon in the box.

"Does it?"

"Yes, yes it does. You see, I'm holding a party for Xemnas because of another very special birthday that is coming up."

"Really?" asked Demyx, his eyes shining. He loved parties, and birthdays were even better. "Whose?"

"Xemnas'."

Demyx looked confused. "But you just said this wasn't for Xemnas' birthday…"

"Not that Xemnas. My goldfish. I named my goldfish Xemnas. And his birthday is coming up, and I want to do something special for him."

Demyx looked at Xigbar, amazed. "You've had that goldfish for an entire year?"

"No, of course not. I've had him for a month, but that's about twenty-nine days longer than the rest lasted."

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

About five minutes later, Demyx exited Xemnas' office, letting out a sigh. He turned to Xigbar, who was waiting by the door. "Well, let's go."

"So Xemnas believed you? He actually thinks you're going home sick?"

Demyx snickered. "God, no. He saw right through it. But a pout does wonders."

Xigbar shuddered. No one would ever have thought that the blond could have been this manipulative. But he shrugged it off, and grabbed Demyx's hand before walking out the door of the building. "First, we go get a cake."

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

At that moment in time, I was busily working at my part-time job as a cashier for a store. I was doodling. But hey, I was there, and they still have to pay me for that, right? Right. Besides, the shop hadn't had a customer all day.

I heard the bell on the door jingle, and quickly stashed my sketchpad under the counter as I rattled off the company welcome. "Hello. Welcome to the Cake Shop, kingdom of all things related to pastry. How can I help you?"

Then I saw who it was. As if they didn't have enough fun making me paranoid at my other job, Xigbar and Demyx had stalked me to my part-time as well. I picked up a smallish cake and got ready to throw it at the first sign of insanity.

My customer being Xigbar, the poor guy never had a chance.

One word out of his mouth, and his face became a rather nice lavender color as it was smeared with icing.

He paused, as if assessing his situation, and then, without a word, bent down and popped a piece of the fallen cake into his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully, and then wiped his eye off and turned to look at me. "Y'know, this isn't bad. What flavor is this?"

I blinked. "Rum cake."

"I think I actually quite like the idea of alcohol being used in a pastry. You, Demyx?" he asked coolly, handing a piece of the cake to his companion. Demyx took it and popped a small piece in his mouth.

"I like it. But…it needs more chocolate…"

"Yes, I agree. Zexion, could this type of cake be made with more chocolate in it? And instead of rum, could you use tequila?"

I blinked more rapidly, my brain desperately trying to process his request and short-circuiting in the process. "M-Maybe?"

"That's just fine, then."

I scrambled for my notepad, writing this all down. "Is this an order, then?" I asked hurriedly. Xigbar nodded. "Might I ask why?"

He shrugged. "Xemnas," he said casually. I stared at him in surprise, nearly dropping my tablet.

"What did you say?"

"You heard me. Xemnas. My pet goldfish. Stupid boy. Just write down the god damn order."

Strangely enough, it's hard to disobey the orders of an insane and annoyed pirate. I wrote down the order. My boss was gonna kill me. Both bosses.

It was only a matter of who would get to me first.

* * *

Author's Note: Sorry, another short chapter. Trust me, the next chapter will make up for it. I hope. If I have anything to say about it, it will.

God, I love Xigbar. He's just SO FUN to write. And he has a goldfish named Xemnas. I mean, how awesome is that? So let's recap on what we know about him. He's a crazy not-pirate that likes attacking people, likes filming awkwards moments with a video camera, is constantly paranoid because of terrorists that don't exist, and is probably terminally insane. But none of that matters, because he has a goldfish named Xemnas. So yeah. Sometimes I wonder if somehow, these people that I write are getting ahold of drugs without me knowing it. Weird.

Next chapter will contain AkuRoku, strange shops, Xigbar convincing Luxord to do his shopping, and Demyx...being Demyx. Look forward to it. Pray that you won't be scarred for life.

-Akane


	5. The Mission

**_This story was cowritten by Akane Arihyoshi and Razori-chan. It was thought-up by Razori, and written by Akane._**

**Authors: **Akane Arihyoshi and Razori-chan

**Title:** How My Boss Drove Me Insane

**Author's Short Note:**God, this took forever to write. Sorry, everyone. But it was so hard...it was...like...all the parts of fanfiction that a suck at writing, all mashed into one chapter. Yuck. But I think I might have done it the best I possibly could, so...if you don't like it, don't hurt me. Just stick around, the next chapter will be better, I swear.

**_WARNINGS:_**Lots of Xigbar/Luxord stuff...it even smells like citrus! A bit of AkuRoku.

**_Disclaimer:_**Ahem. This, below, is the representation of what would happen if Razori and I owned Kingdom Hearts. Did it happen this way in the game? No? Then I'm pretty damn sure that means I don't own it. Yeah. Just read the damn thing.

* * *

So now Xigbar found that he had hit a small snag in his planning. The plans themselves were brilliant, but they jumped over a minor detail. Shopping. Nowhere in his extraordinary schedule of events did he include the actual buying of things that are generally expected at parties, such as decorations. In fact, the only thing he had managed to get was a cake.

Not that the cake wasn't wonderful, but while a cake with a party to go with it is brilliant, a cake without a party is just a cake. And to have a party, you have to have decorations and random surprises. At least, that's what Xigbar thought, and as he was the main party planner, his opinion mattered quite a bit.

So he went off to go find himself some shoppers.

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

Luxord looked up as he saw the door open, tensing when he saw the security guard (whom he happened to quite like, if the fact that he was living with the man said anything about it) casually strolling into his office as though he owned the place. "What do you want, Xigbar? I'm busy."

Xigbar smiled sweetly, moving over to Luxord's desk, and sweeping his hand over the wood, he knocked every single one of Luxord's papers to the ground with a small flourish, before climbing onto the desk itself and leaning in close to the other man's face to whisper, "And now you're not busy."

Luxord had long ago learned that anger was useless when directed at a fool, and so his face was thoroughly collected as he observed the other. "What do you want, Xigbar?" he repeated, staring the man in the eye. Xigbar pulled back slightly.

"I want you to do a bit of shopping for me. Get some decorations for a party I'm planning. Nothing too fancy, I suppose."

Luxord would have been a little surprised, but living with Xigbar had conditioned him to quit reacting to the man's bizarre requests at odd times of the day. "And why in hell should I do that?"

"Because, you fool," Xigbar whispered, leaning even closer, their faces hardly an inch apart, "I can make life _very _uncomfortable for you…"

Luxord resisted the urge to shudder, still schooling his expression to look fairly apathetic. Xigbar leaned closer still, lips almost touching Luxord's own. The gambler felt his resolve crushing, as much as he hated to admit it, and he leaned forward to catch Xigbar in a kiss…

…only to have the one-eyed man lean back at the same time, jumping off the desk and heading towards the door. "I can see you don't have an interest in doing this for me. I had rather hoped you would be willing, especially with…so much at stake, but if you refuse to do it, I really don't see how I can force you…" Xigbar trailed off sadly.

Before he even knew what he was doing, Luxord had jumped up and grabbed Xigbar's wrist, pulling him closer and sealing their lips together. This went on for only a second, before Xigbar pulled away and made a disapproving noise, tapping Luxord on the nose. "Now now, if you aren't going to do this for me, there's going to be no more of that for awhile…" he said teasingly, grinning at Luxord. The gambler sighed angrily, before letting go of the other and searching around for something, finally unearthing a coat from under the massive pile of papers Xigbar had created and shrugging it on.

"Fine. Fine, I'll get your god damn decorations."

Xigbar smiled sweetly, pulling Luxord in for a quick kiss. "Je t'aime, sweetheart," he said mockingly, "Now go get me my streamers." **(1)**

"I hate you, Xigbar."

"I hate you too, baby."

Luxord quickly left the room, making his way down the hall and out the door. Xigbar left moments later, turning in the opposite direction, smirking to himself and wandering down the hallway looking for another shopper.

"One victim down," he muttered happily to himself.

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

Xigbar in general was threatening, but a prowling Xigbar with a mission was just an accident waiting to happen. He was thoroughly determined to catch whomever he met first in the narrow hallway he strolled down, and assign them a grueling task. This violent thought made him rather pleased with himself, and he started whistling a tune.

This was how the rather unlucky cardiologist, Doctor Vexen Carr, found the security guard three seconds later, as he passed through the hallway with a boiling hot liquid in a small glass beaker, intent on delivering it to a more secure environment to run more tests on it. Xigbar, spotting the scientist, then proceeded to greet the older male calmly and coolly, by throwing his arms around the man's neck, squeezing to the point of extreme discomfort (on Vexen's part, anyway), and screaming, "MY SAVIOR!" obnoxiously at the top of his lungs. He then removed his limbs, straightened Vexen's tie, and mumbled a quick, "Hello, Doctor".

Vexen was thoroughly displeased. Not without reason, for his important, cancer-curing, grant-causing, life-changing, _boiling hot_ experiment had just spilled all down his shirt-front, causing quite a bit of discomfort, pain, and rage. Not to mention that his glass beaker had fallen to the ground with a sickening shatter, and if there was anything Vexen hated more than Xigbar, it was the sound of lab equipment breaking. If there was anything else Vexen hated even _more_, it was Xigbar being the cause of lab equipment breaking, and he felt that a few snapped bones might be a fitting punishment for the one-eyed man. He was in the process of plotting the man's doom when Xigbar opened his mouth, and, completely oblivious that his life was being threatened violently in Vexen's mind, began to speak.

"Vexen, I need you to go shopping for me."

Vexen merely stared. All death-threats left his head at the same moment with a dull whirr, and he found that his mind had shut down, completely canceling all thought processes except one:

Had this loon finally lost it completely?

His mouth opened and shut repeatedly, giving him the look of a pale blonde goldfish. Then, regaining control of his own mind, he walked in the opposite direction without a word, leaving Xigbar standing out in the hallway confusedly.

That is, until he began to hear strange noises coming from behind a door further on down the hallway. Following these noises, he came to a halt outside of a metallic door marked "Axel Pire and Roxas"--a last name was scratched out--"Office and Lab".

"Ow! Axel, get off!"

Xigbar readied his video camera, placing his hand delicately on the door knob, prepared to push down and open the door at any second. He carefully pressed his ear to the metal to hear the quieter sounds.

"Axel," Xigbar heard Roxas say angrily, "I told you no."

"But Roxas!" Axel whined.

"No. NO! Don't do that!"

"Why not? I thought you liked it."

"…shut up, Axel. Just shut up."

Then there was silence. Axel and Roxas were at work, so it made sense that they would be speaking of work-related things, right? Yeah. Of course. For a perverted security guard, Xigbar was oddly oblivious to what went on around him. He swung open the door.

"How's the experiment--" he began. Two pairs of eyes looked up, their owners entwined almost impossibly against one of the desks in the room. Lips from two different mouths unattached quickly, arms from two different persons pushed at the other hurriedly in an attempt to be caught in a less compromising situation.

Dorks.

Didn't they know the video camera was already rolling?

* * *

**(1):** This translates into 'I love you', just in case you didn't know.

**A/N:**This was crap to write. But I wrote it. Because what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. The only problem was, this came very close to killing me. And what kills you, makes you dead. Not stronger, just dead. Yeah. Not fun. Because then I couldn't write anymore. And I'd already be dead, so I couldn't kill myself because I was dead and therefore not able to write. SO. Yeah. Sucky chapter.

For those of you who liked this chapter, don't worry, the next chapter will be even better. For those of you who hated this chapter, don't worry, the next chapter will be less painful to read. :3

Review. This was terrible to write, I need to know some of you care.

-Akane


	6. Dramatic Gay Men

**_This story was co-written by Razori-chan and Akane Arihyoshi. It was thought-up by Razori, and written by Akane._**

Authors: Razori-chan and Akane Arihyoshi

Title: How My Boss Drove Me Insane

IMPORTANT: This chapter contains AkuRoku. It also contains freaky Xigbar, hints of computer hacking done int he past, and letters from fangirls. It includes Axel screaming like a girl, Roxas curling up into a ball of misery on Axel's lap, and Xigbar being...Xigbar.

And if you're anything like me, you're reading faster now.

Disclaimer: And if I did say I owned it? What then? What would you do about it? Sue me? Ha. We all know you're just another fangirl.

* * *

"Boys," Xigbar drawled coolly. "I thought Xemnas told you that the next time he caught you snogging during work hours, he was going to fire you both. Since you live together with no other roommates and are each other's significant other, both of you losing your current jobs would mean that you would have no one else to turn to for making a living. It was only by sheer luck and the idiocy of our lovely CEO that got you hired here in the first place, and I highly doubt you'll ever be given such nice, high-paying jobs ever again in your lifetime.

"I'll start the bidding at 1,000 munny."

Axel and Roxas had the decency to look politely dismayed. "Xigbar," Axel began slowly. "Xigbar, if you get us fired, who will help you look out for terrorists? Who will help you prank Luxord? Who will tell you exactly where Vexen will be at any given moment, so that you can stalk him randomly just to see him fidget as he gets that funny feeling that someone's watching him? You'd have to train two more people to do that. Who would help you figure out Lexaeus' schedule for the coming week, so that you can go around and randomly pester him with little chores that will eventually drive him to insanity?"

Roxas nodded. "Xigbar, remember why you hired us. You hired me because I'm an accomplished computer hacker. And you hired Axel because I asked you to, and you had already decided that you wanted to stay on my good side."

"That might be true," Xigbar said carefully, ignoring Axel's annoyed protests. "But I could easily find some other half-wits with innate talent in hacking into databases. Isn't it something you geeks are born with?"

"Not the point Xigbar."

"But as it happens, you're in luck. I won't fire you if you complete a certain…task, I suppose."

Axel and Roxas shared a long-suffering look, then Axel turned back to Xigbar. "Xig, I refuse to participate in any sort of sport, competition, perverted gestures for your entertainment, or any other crazy weird stunt you have in mind," he said quickly. Roxas nudged him. "The same apparently applies for Roxas."

And then Xigbar _grinned_.

There are times when every man admits that he is scared in some way or another. Some admit it by choice. Others admit it by involuntary noises that emit from their mouths at a sudden shock.

They say that you could hear Axel's involuntary declaration of fear in Twilight Town, ten hours away by the fastest gummi ship in existence, and arguably in an entirely different world. (I know I heard it well enough, and I was three blocks down buying new beakers for Vexen to replace the smashed one.)

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

Roxas turned white as a sheet at that grin. Axel, after his momentary exclamation of shock and fright, clutched Roxas tightly, which forced a bit of color into the blonde's face.

"No, Xigbar, please!" Axel begged, pulling Roxas onto his lap and as close to himself as was physically possible.

"Shut up, Axel, you melodramatic idiot," Xigbar huffed indignantly, glaring at the pair halfheartedly. "All I want you to do is a bit of shopping for me. Dear lord, you'd think I was a member of the mafia telling you that you owed us money."

"Or someone from the Spanish Inquisition. _Nobody_ expects the Spanish Inquisition," Axel quipped cheerily, before falling back into a somber state at the exasperated look on Xigbar's face. "Sorry, sir. Shutting up now, sir."

Xigbar opened his mouth to speak, but then, it seemed, he caught sight of the clock on the wall behind the two lovers, and he glanced down at his watch with the air of someone who has just remembered an appointment that they'd forgotten, and realized that the appointment was in three minutes. He looked up once more apologetically.

"I'm sorry boys, but it seems I have to interrupt out little session for a couple of minutes while I fulfill a certain…obligation. If you'll excuse me, it will only be a few short minutes," he said kindly, exiting the room and sprinting up the staircase and into his small office by the entrance of the building.

Now, you see, Xigbar was a very strange man, who lived a very strange life, with many strange activities sprinkled throughout his (strange) daily schedule. Most of you have probably noticed. Probably noticed a long time ago. But still, for the insanely stupid among us all, it must be explained that Mister Xigbar Gaines, while employed as the personal security guard for the CEO of a very large and important company, and therefore reasonably important himself, was about as insane as you could go and still be legally allowed out of a straitjacket. In fact, he was pushing the law terribly by being free and outside of the government-funded asylums.

At this precise time every day, Xigbar would inexplicably disappear into his office for a few minutes. Doing _what_, exactly, no one ever quite knew, until rather recently (recently to the date that this was written, anyway) I gathered up the courage and asked him about it. Apparently no one had ever asked him before.

As it turned out, he was only responding to fan mail from a few very persistent girls. Nothing even mildly threatening at all.

And so, leaving a bewildered pair of young men behind in their office, Xigbar left to write a response to those desperate fangirls who have nothing better to do than admire the life of a crazy security guard in his forties.

Forget all the conspiracies about MySpace and child predators. Those damn kids go _looking_ for them.

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

Roxas and Axel, rather traumatized from their Xigbarian (yes, that's a word,) experience, overlooked their obvious chance for escape in favor of sitting on Axel's desk with Roxas on the redhead's lap, stupefied looks adorning their once marginally attractive faces. They continued in this position until, only minutes later, though it seemed like much longer, the security guard returned.

Xigbar blinked at them. "You know," he said carefully. "Most people try to escape while I'm gone. Seeing as I'm going to make you do something for me that you'll hate, and all."

Axel turned his head and stared blankly at Xigbar, hardly processing a word. Roxas opted to continue in his motionally-challenged regiment of giving the wall a funny look.

Xigbar sat and stared at them for a few more seconds. Then, quite abruptly, he jumped onto Roxas' (thankfully clean) desk with a loud noise that at some point might have been meant to actually mean something.

"You two are going to do my task for me!" he reiterated, pointing a finger at them and crouching down lower on the wooden surface so as to not lose his already horrible balance.

Axel blinked at him, but made no reply. This didn't matter, however, as Xigbar hardly left any time for a reply anyway.

"You're going to go shopping for me. Go to a certain store and buy a certain object for me in a certain color and size. Got that?"

This time Roxas blinked at him.

"Good. So, now, to business."

Xigbar jumped off the desk and rummaged through one of the drawers. Roxas gave a little squeak of indignation, but Xigbar didn't care; he was already halfway through the drawer, pulling out random objects ("Was that a frog?" he wondered idly,) and tossing them unceremoniously all over the floor. Finally, after tearing apart drawer after drawer, the one-eyed man pulled out yet another one, took it straight out of the desk it usually resided in, and dumped all of the two objects it housed.

A pen and some paper. Oh, perfect. Just what he'd been looking for. "Oh, wonderful! It was right there the entire time! Who knew? I didn't. Did you know, Roxas? Oh, you must have…well then. To business," Xigbar repeated, kicking aside a rather enormous pile of junk and sitting straight down in Roxas' chair as he began to write down instructions.

Roxas whimpered from his position in Axel's lap, and curled up into a ball in a sad attempt to convey his misery to the rest of the world. Axel, being the blubbering idiot that he was (in my opinion anyway, biased though it may be, since my dislike of the man spawned one day when he ruined a particularly important experiment of mine), just kind of sat there and hugged him in an attempt to comfort.

It was pitiful, actually, and if anyone else had been there, they would have burst out in a fit of laughter. But no one else was there, and Roxas was mortified by the destruction of his desk. Xigbar just didn't get the joke, while Axel was slightly mollified by the fact that there was a very pretty boy sitting on his lap.

But I digress.

The one-eyed security guard jumped up once more, unceremoniously pushed Roxas off Axel and onto the desk, and leaned over Axel. "Now, boy, this is very important," Xigbar stage-whispered. "I want you to take this information. You are to go to the shop I've written down, and buy that certain thing for me in the size and color specified on the paper.

"Actually, Axel, you might like this a lot. You'll probably like the store. You'll _love_ being there with Roxas. In fact, being the kind soul I am, I've even given you enough time to stay there a bit after you do my errand. But I would advise you to not tell Roxas where you're going. He probably wouldn't appreciate it like you will. Take this paper, read it, and go."

With trembling fingers, Axel opened up the little slip of paper. With fearful eyes, he read its contents.

And then a grin spread across his face, and he laughed out loud.

Xigbar took that opportunity to slip out of the room.

Roxas righted himself from the uncomfortable position he had been pushed into and crawled back into Axel's lap. He tried to read the paper also, but it was quickly refolded and put into Axel's pocket.

"No, Roxas. You'll ruin the surprise," Axel chided lightly, poking Roxas' nose and smiling sweetly at him.

"But Axel…"

"No."

A smile. A pout. And then Roxas tackled Axel back onto the desk and made a valiant attempt to reach into his back pocket (for the paper, you sick perverted fangirls. _For the paper_). This was carefully avoided by Axel, who, after living with the blond for quite some time, was pretty used to these surprise attacks.

"Bad Roxas. No."

"But Axel," Roxas whined, drawing the name out longer than was strictly necessary to get his point across. "Why won't you just tell me?"

Axel chuckled and grinned even wider. "Because then, Roxas, it wouldn't be a surprise!"

Then, picking up the little blond boy in his arms bridal-style, he proceeded to leave the room with a hard kick to the partially closed door, causing it to fall back open with a loud '_snap_'.

And they were on their way to the shop.

Now, the reader may find it interesting to note that Xigbar had very skewed visions of what the world was supposed to be like. In fact, his ideal world looked like a bad sitcom re-run, complete with the dysfunctional family that always seems to resolve their issues in thirty minutes or less.

So when he thought 'party', naturally he thought of some normal things. Cake, streamers, people to invite. A reason to throw the party in the first place.

Check.

But he also thought of some things that are specific to certain _types_ of parties. Like strippers and alcohol.

But only the former really appealed to him. And yet, he didn't have the budget needed to get one.

And so, being the resourceful man he was, he made his own. All he needed was a sexy outfit, and so he sent Axel and Roxas to an adult shop to look for one.

And if Demyx wasn't specifically cut out for the career, he could live with that.

* * *

A/N: Okay. So get to writing those letters, fangirls, because Xigbar needs some stuff to reply to.

And for once, I will make an offer in an attempt to get more reviews. So listen up, all you fangirls of Xigbar. In order to keep with the plot of the story, and because I think it's hilarious and fun, I actually want to see someone write a letter to Xigbar. That will be your task, all you people that actually read author's notes. That will be your fine task.

And hey, here's more incentive. If you don't give him letters, he may eat Xemnas' soul, and there would be no more story. Because you just KNOW he's that insane.

I still expect reviews not directed at Xigbar, you know. XD Well, maybe not EXPECT, but I want them. Badly.

-Akane


	7. Yuffie the Badass Ninja

_**This story was co-written by Akane Arihyoshi and Razori-chan. It was written by Akane, and thought-up by Razori.**_

Title: How My Boss Drove Me Insane

Authors: Akane Arihyoshi and Razori-chan

Disclaimer: As if.

Note: This chapter contains Final Fantasy characters. Or...well...one. But who doesn't know Yuffie? I mean, come on. It's _Yuffie_.

* * *

And thus, I suppose it is my duty to explain to you, in great detail, exactly what happened on this shopping expedition.

Axel and Roxas', anyway. I don't really give a damn if you want to hear what Luxord did. Go ask him yourselves, fangirls. Same address as Xigbar's, and I _know_ you have Xigbar's address. I think he just went to the nearest Wal-Mart. He came back rather traumatized, though, so I suppose he has a wonderful story to tell.

Do I care? No.

And without further ado, the shopping trip of the century, à la Axel and Roxas.

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

Axel perused the piece of paper for the millionth time. Really, it was rather unfortunate that the only person Xigbar had trusted with the instructions on how to get to the store was the one person guaranteed to get them lost. Ironically, had Roxas been in charge, they would have arrived close to an hour ago, thanks to his wonderfully keen sense of direction.

Strangely, they had been about a block from the place for about an hour. They wouldn't even have gotten this far if Axel hadn't finally given up and gone to ask an old lady by the side of the road. To her credit, the little innocent old lady knew where the adult store was, and happily gave Axel directions. Her parting comment was "Isn't that just the sweetest little girlfriend you have there?", while pointing with her frail little finger to Roxas, causing herself to be given quite a glare and proving, obviously, that she was actually quite out of it. They left her alone to feed the many strange little pigeons that she seemed to attract like a magnet and sing a little song about 'birds' and 'tuppence a bag'.

After wandering around for an hour, Roxas, still having no idea where they were going, pulled Axel along into a side street, figuring if they couldn't find it on the main street, it had to be on one of the smaller ones.

As irony would have it, he was right. In fact, the _only_ shop on the street Roxas had pulled them to was the _right_ shop, if the happy squeal Axel gave out was any indication.

Despite having found the right shop after hours of searching, Roxas was not pleased. (In fact, when Roxas described the event to me for this report, he described it as the "most painful experience ever, right after that time in seventh grade when my brother Sora accidentally dyed my hair pink.")

Despite receiving a death glare from his boyfriend, signaling that he was about to get severely maimed, beaten, and castrated, Axel was _very_ pleased.

They were outside a very _odd_ store. And Axel was going to make the most of it if it was the last thing he did.

Which, judging by the look on Roxas' face, it was.

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

Ten minutes and a headache later, they actually went into the store. Immediately after, they were assaulted by a ninja.

And here, in this lovely account of the goings-on at the Cardiac Research Center and the happenings of its staff, is where we get into the famous debate:

Which, in fact, is better? Pirates, or Ninjas?

The answer, of course, is to ask another question. In what situation are we talking? Because if you're given the choice being assaulted by one or the other, ninjas are, in fact, much better, owing to the fact that they do not usually carry around a gun-shaped camera and go by the name of Xigbar.

They only carry around a pocket knife that is far too large to fit in any standard-sized pocket and a few gun-shaped _guns_ with a few thousand bullets strapped to their chests. Far less dangerous, in any case, than Xigbar armed with a paper clip and some red food coloring.

That man can do crazy shit with red food coloring and a paper clip. Trust me on that.

Axel and Roxas, however, were hardly given the time to reflect on this delicate subject. Their thoughts consisted of a few very simple words:

I'm going to die.

While not a relatively happy thought, it gave comfort in the fact that in death, they would no longer be subjected to the hugging, squealing, and general fangirling that was being done on them now. Or maybe they would. But they wouldn't care.

After a few moments, the ninja detached herself from the squirming couple, pulling back to observe their pained faces. "Two gay men in my shop," she squealed happily, like this wasn't a totally everyday occurrence. (In reality, she got about twenty gay men per day in her little shop. She only ever attacked the new ones.)

Axel pulled Roxas around behind him and carefully read the nametag so he would know who to complain to the manager about.

'Yuffie, the Badass Ninja' it read in nice, misleading Olde English font. Underneath it, a slightly bolder font read 'Store Manager'.

Which was totally perfect. Hard to complain to the manager about the manager, but, I mean, she was the _manager_, and she was just as crazy as Axel himself was. It was beyond perfect. This girl would know exactly what he was talking about. His grin just got wider by the second. Roxas poked his head out from behind Axel, confused.

The manager calmed down a bit, and then looked professionally at Axel with a nice clean smile. "Hello sirs," she rattled off coolly. "How can I help you on this fine day?"

Axel looked happily stunned for a moment, and then he seemed to regain his composure. "Ah, yes. Well. My friend asked me to do a little bit of shopping for him. You know, this and that, he doesn't have much time to himself anymore, poor fellow. But, you see, there's this party that my friend is planning, and it's coming up soon. He works very hard to pay the bills, but I'm afraid he just doesn't have the funds to get all the supplies he needs. One of the things on his rather extensive list is a stripper, and you of all people must know how expensive they are nowadays. Yet, we do have a very caring mutual friend who has decided to help out of the goodness of his heart. These are his sizes," Axel intoned, handing Yuffie the piece of battered and much-abused paper Xigbar had given him.

Yuffie too one look at the paper, and laughed out loud. "Okay. Sure. So, by that you mean that you have a party you've been blackmailed into helping out with. Caring mutual friend my ass, this guy whose sizes you gave me, he has no idea he's doing this, does he? In which case you're going to need some damn good drugs too, right? But that's not even the point. The only reason you pretended to care about the blackmail and accepted the job is so that you could have a good excuse to drag your hot little boy toy here and pretend that the shopkeeper pressured you into buying several dirty objects," she said matter-of-factly, in a tone that was really better suited for someone that was talking about the weather.

"Exactly," Axel said happily. He turned back to Roxas. "Damn, Roxy. She's good."

"I'm not good. I'm the best," Yuffie said cheerfully, curling her hand around Axel's arm in a vice-like grip and pulling him off to the back wall of the store. Roxas followed, Axel's hand slipping into his own. Yuffie stopped rather abruptly, handed the small paper with the sizes to a flamboyantly gay man with pink hair, telling him to find the perfect outfit in rapid French. (Roxas was very glad he'd decided to take that fourth year of French in high school.)

She started up again, dragging Axel back and back until finally she reached a standstill at the back wall. She picked up a small bottle, examined it, picked up a small basket to the side and then threw the bottle in it before tossing the basket to Axel. Then she picked up something else, explained what it did, and threw that in the basket as well.

This cycle continued for quite some time. Yuffie would pull something off the shelf, explain its purpose, toss it to Axel, and he would put it in the basket. Roxas would then reach into the basket, unseen by a very distracted Axel, and place the object back on the shelf carefully. The other employees and the shoppers got a kick out of this, watching it with some glee until Roxas glared at them in a warning not to blow his cover.

Finally the pink-haired man returned with Xigbar's outfit, and Axel pranced over to the counter to have his items rung up. Roxas tagged along behind innocently, grasping Axel's hand in his own.

It took awhile for Axel to realize that his items weren't in the basket. He pouted, pulled, and snarled, but Roxas wouldn't let go of his arm. Finally, the grinning employee at the counter bopped them both on the head and smiled at their unhappy faces. "You two are really in love," she stated.

Roxas gave her a funny look. "Yeah…?" he said carefully. She was still smiling, and she said nothing. Axel looked slightly frightened.

Carefully, they packed up Xigbar's dress and ran out of there.

* * *

A/N: Ooh, this one took a while. But I think it came out okay...anyway. That last bit was just...I dunno. It needed to end, and so it ended.

You guys are getting a treat. There was someone special in this chapter who wasn't named, and he'll play a very special part. I'm sure all of you know who it is, but I can almost assure you that none of you can guess how he'll play an important part. I feel so evil. It's nice.

LEAVE ME REVIEWS.

-Akane


	8. Bribery and Stupidity

**_This story was co-written by Akane Arihyoshi and Razori-chan. It was written by Akane, and thought up by Razori._**

**Title:** How My Boss Drove Me Insane

**Authors:** Akane Arihyoshi and Razori-chan

**Disclaimer:** I dare you to sue me.

**Warnings:** Marluxia and Vexen in a relationship (the...well, I hesitate to say 'romantic kind', but you know what I mean. It's yaoi, okay?). A small descriptive glimpse of Demyx's messy apartment. French-speaking Marluxia. Mental images of Vexen taking a drama class that will be forever embedded in your brain because I mentioned it in one sentence and it's just so funny a concept that you can't NOT have the mental images.

You have been warned.

* * *

Marluxia was a man of his word.

God damn him if there was one single day he didn't regret it.

It had gotten him into more situations than he could really count. His current job, for one. He hadn't exactly grown up thinking "When I'm older, I want to work in a sex shop!". Nah, that one came a bit later, into his twenties. A god damn bet. With Luxord, no less. You know how, in their twenties, some people think they're invincible, and so they do really stupid stuff? That's about the stupidest you can get legally, betting more than a dollar with Luxord. You never betted more than you were prepared to lose, and with Luxord, you never betted more than he could swindle out of you.

The man was good. He knew all the tricks to get you excited and willing to bet your fortune. If you didn't have money, the stakes only got higher. It was like a petty daring game, the ones that children play; daring each other to do something stupid, like eating sand, or kissing a pretty girl. Only, with Luxord, it got a whole lot less petty and a whole lot more serious.

And Marluxia bet it all.

He bet his god damn life. Or, well, not his life in its entirety. He was still allowed to pick where he lived, what he ate, who he talked to. But he had been so stupid.

He'd been drunk. Because really, who ever bet against Luxord while they were sober? Dead drunk. So drunk Luxord had to explain the game about five times and they ended up playing poker instead because Marluxia couldn't grasp the concept of anything else.

Luxord had been talking to Marluxia earlier, kept buying him more drinks (of course, it took Marluxia until after his hangover to realize that he had been set up), until finally Marluxia let slip that he was looking for a new job. He hadn't exactly known what to do with his life now that he had gotten his diploma from high school, and after working a couple years in part time jobs to pay the bills, he decided it was time to find a good career for the rest of his life.

Luxord, being sneaky, underhanded, and generally without integrity of any kind, set up the game. If Luxord lost, he would help Marluxia look for a decent job in the area. If he won, he would pick Marluxia's job for him.

Marluxia, in his intoxicated state, saw this as a win-win situation. They played.

Marluxia lost. Obviously.

It wasn't until two weeks later that Luxord found him the perfect job. You see, a friend of a friend of a distant cousin of Luxord's uncle had a small problem. They'd just opened up a shop, and they couldn't find anyone to fill a few shifts there. The pay was extraordinary, and Marluxia had to agree, it was a salary that he could live nicely on. Then Luxord dropped the bombshell.

It was a sex shop.

And Marluxia had already agreed to work wherever Luxord placed him.

Of course, Marluxia could have refused. He could have taken a restraining order against Luxord, could have insisted that the bet was invalid since he had been intoxicated. He could have done any number of things, at least one or two of them generally acceptable things to do in this situation. But god damn it, Marluxia had always been a man or his word, through thick and thin, and he wasn't about to drop that policy now.

So he went to work in the sex shop.

A year later, he met Vexen, and discovered three things: Blonds weren't always as stupid as the stories said, he really couldn't stand the man, and he'd fallen in love. A month later, they were living together, neither of them exactly sure how they were supposed to accomplish this without killing each other.

Our story takes place five years later, amazingly, with both denizens of the small apartment still generally intact.

Vexen had been working at the CRC for seven years before he met Marluxia, and was now fast approaching his twelfth year there.

Marluxia had never quit that job. It had its perks, of course. Upon arriving, he was able to convince the store manager that he only spoke French. He could back this up quite nicely, since he had actually lived in a French-speaking world for quite some time in his early childhood. That was a nice help, since the manager had only ever taken a year of the language, and then promptly forgotten most of it on receiving her diploma. It limited all attempts at conversation for a while, that was for sure.

But his job came in handy sometimes. And when he saw Roxas and Axel, two of Vexen's coworkers, he knew that something had to be going on at the CRC. And he could safely bet that Vexen had no idea.

This was going to be a load of fun.

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

Vexen got home that day in a generally bad mood. It was understandable. He'd been attacked by a mad-man, burnt by an important project spilling down his last clean lab coat, and seen valuable objects plummet to the ground before hearing a horrifying crash.

Yet, even as his mood dropped dangerously low, Vexen still kept up his routines. He walked into the door of his home, shucked off his coat, and hung it up in the closet, just like he did every other day. He walked into the living room, sneered at his lover in an uncharacteristic display of affection he reserved solely for Marluxia, and sat down gracefully in his armchair at the right side of the room. Grimacing at the trash Marluxia had located on one of the networks in their television, he demanded that the remote be appointed to himself, but didn't press the issue when no remote appeared in his hand. It never did, and Marluxia always ignored him and went straight on watching whatever he decided was appropriate for his own personal entertainment.

This time, however, it was slightly different. Instead of the remote staying put and the annoying noise from the television finally driving Vexen out of the room and into the sanity of his own home-based laboratory, a firm hand gripped the device and pressed a tiny red button. Instantaneously the noise ceased, and Vexen looked around, surprised at the sudden change in habit.

"Now why would you turn the television off?" Vexen grumbled, displeased. He was rather a creature of habit, and he disliked anything that threatened his perfectly placed order.

"Shut up, Vexen. You hate television. You complain about it every day," Marluxia countered easily, leaning back casually against the arm of the couch he was resting on. "Besides, we've got more important things to talk about."

This truly confused Vexen. Rarely did Marluxia ever have the urge to talk, and never with Vexen. Rather, he called one of his more…feminine friends, like that awful girl Larxene, and recounted his tale on more willing ears. This may very well have been the first time in a good long while that Marluxia had spoken a sentence to him without an insult carefully laced into it.

"Talk?" he asked, bewildered. This only served to put him in an even worse mood, since, as scientific as he was, he rather liked to believe that he knew everything, and this startling evidence that he, in fact, did _not_ was off-putting in the least.

"Yes, talk. You know the concept, I'm sure."

Vexen snarled, but otherwise made no reply.

"Then I suppose I'll have to initiate the conversation. You see, Vexen, I have some information that I think you'll like to hear."

Vexen twitched idly, but showed no other signs of acknowledgement.

"The first part I will tell you now. The second part you will have to earn by participating in a conversation. This morning, I saw two of your co-workers, Axel and Roxas, come into my shop during their work hours, maintaining that they were on company business."

This piqued Vexen's interest. He wanted so desperately to ask, but he wouldn't give Marluxia the satisfaction of caving in so easily.

His responding grunt was met with raised eyebrows. "You really think I'll tell you more if you don't even acknowledge me?" Marluxia asked bemusedly. "Grow up, Vexen. In the real world, we use _words_ to share our feelings."

Vexen growled. "What do you want, Marluxia?"

"Oh, good boy," Marluxia said coolly. "But you'll have to say more than that."

"Marluxia. What the hell do you want?"

"I won't answer your questions until you _ask_ me for the rest of the information. Nicely, too, Vexen. Use those dried up manners of yours. Quickly, they might die from not being used."

Vexen felt all his dignity leave as he uttered his next words. "Marluxia, tell me…_please_."

Marluxia smirked and went on. "Now see, that wasn't too hard."

Another growl.

"Touchy. Well fine. I already told you that I'd seen them in the shop, yes? Well. They were there on company business. Said so themselves, and Axel isn't a very good liar, in my opinion."

"Get on with it."

"Now, Vexen. I could stop at any time and turn the television right back on without telling you a thing, if you'd like."

"…Marluxia."

"Well. Don't you want to know what they bought for their company?"

Vexen grunted in affirmation.

Marluxia told him quietly, smirking.

Vexen's head was racing. Quickly, he stumbled upon a conclusion. It must be Xigbar's doing. It had to be, obviously. But what would he need a stripper's costume for? The idea seemed rather random, even for Xigbar.

He thought some more, hammering out a plan of action. The first thing to do would be to contact someone who would be in on Xigbar's scheme. That would be the easy part.

He reached for the phone beside Marluxia's chair, and dialed a number that, strangely, he knew by heart.

Time to use what he'd learned in that Drama class he'd taken in high school.

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

Demyx was just pulling off his heels when the phone rang.

He leapt over a beaten-up chair, righted a lamp that had fallen over in his haste, and reached over the counter to pick up the phone that was attached to the wall in the kitchen, his arm just barely long enough for him to grasp it with the tips of his fingers.

"Hello?" he said casually, pulling back from the counter so that he could speak in a more comfortable position.

A cold, dry voice on the other end answered him. "Yes, hello. Demyx, I presume?"

For a moment, Demyx was scared that it was a telemarketer. The tone of voice and the greeting indicated a cheerfully violent desire to be off the phone. He answered warily. "Yes."

"Don't sound so scared boy, no one is going to murder you over the telephone," the voice said wearily, muttering something quiet that sounded like 'Kids these days'.

Oh. "Hello, Vexen."

"Yes, Demyx. That's been established."

"Oh."

"Well, Demyx, to the point. You see, Xigbar let me in on the little secret."

At this point, anyone with common sense would have quickly asked Vexen what secret he had been let in on, to establish that, yes, Vexen did in fact know the secret itself, and wasn't just bluffing.

But Demyx didn't have very much common sense, and what little he did was severely underused. "Oh, you mean about the party for Xemnas?"

Vexen paused on the other end. When he spoke again, he sounded rather amused. "Yes, the party," he said. He went on.

"You see, Xigbar forgot to tell me the details of it. He needed my help on something important, nothing for you to worry about. He told me that you would be of assistance if I had any questions?"

Demyx beamed with pride. "Of course!" he gushed.

"Ah, thank you, Demyx."

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

Vexen sat back in his chair as he set the telephone back in its cradle, having heard every detail about this event he could ever have wanted to know.

After a few moments of thought, he retrieved the phone receiver once more and dialed in a number. (He ignored Marluxia's stares. In their five years of living together, Marluxia had only seen Vexen use the phone seven times.)

It was time to call in a favor.

* * *

Author's Note: Ooh, so this felt like it was a long one. A little bit longer than the rest, at least. This chapter will have a second part to it, I think. In the next chapter. It might entirely take up the next chapter, or it might take up only a part of it. It all depends on how the writing goes.

Razori gave me until Labor Day to write this. I finished it a day early. Woo.

Leave reviews. Especially if you're a fan of MarlyVex, so I know to write more into the plot.

-Akane


	9. Calling in Favors

**_This story was co-written by Akane Arihyoshi and Razori-chan. It was written by Akane, and thought up by Razori._**

**Authors:** Akane Arihyoshi and Razori-chan

**Disclaimer:** Yeah right. Would you really want this story to be in video game form? No, don't answer that, because I know you would.

**Warnings:** Short chapter, no Demyx or Xigbar in this chpter at ALL, and the actual inclusion of Xaldin in a main plot line; god forbid. AND 411 Read faster, me fangirling...fangirls.

* * *

Xaldin was a small-town police chief.

This, he maintained, was completely the fault of the government he had sworn to protect. When he had thought of his future as a child, he had imagined guns, the thrill of the chase, endangering his own life daily, and women.

Yeah.

He'd wanted to be a _bounty hunter_.

Apparently, the government had other plans. He'd gone into his advisor's office in college, determined to pursue his dangerous career choice, and been pleasantly told that his dreams were going to have to wait a few decades.

This news was hardly received pleasantly. Personally, Xaldin thought that the building's drastic color switch from a dull beige to the radioactive glowing lime green was thoughtful of him. He thought of it as a sort of gift. They thought of it as arson with intent to kill. What did they know?

But even in the next town over's college, the sad truth remained. In order to become a bounty hunter, he was required by law to be an ordinary police officer for ten consecutive years.

This _sucked_. What action is there in being the officer of a dinky little town? The bar fights that happened every other Tuesday? The playground disputes between two mothers who had no clue whose son had thrown sand at whose first, but were determined to blame it on the other mother without a thought of actually asking the kids?

Disgraceful.

But there he stayed, diligently working his way up the tiny ladder his career offered, eventually moving up to cities with higher and higher crime rates, until finally he found he had nowhere left to go but down. This had all happened in the course of one year. Bored to tears, Xaldin had finally decided to go step by step right back down the ladder. Back in the first town, he quickly remembered just how much he detested the small village, and he went straight back up the ladder to the top again. This cycle went on for quite some time.

At this particular point in time, Xaldin was about halfway through his trek to the top again. He expected wholeheartedly to be the top man by February, and back at the bottom again by April. It was providing him endless amusement, but very little action. He expected that would come later, with his new and awaited job. He only had a year left to go, after all.

His apartment changed frequently, along with his phone number, and so he didn't often receive phone calls. The only one he bothered to inform of a new location and number was his mother, and only because she threatened bodily harm if he didn't.

So when the phone rang, he naturally assumed that it was his mother, yet again, calling to tell him something trivial and uninteresting. Nevertheless, being the good son that he undoubtedly was, he reached over and delicately plucked the phone from the cradle and held the phone about two inches from his ear; his mother was very nearly deaf, and as a result, she insisted on yelling whatever she said. "Yes, mother?"

"Xaldin, I'm not your mother, and if you call me that again, I'm afraid I'll have to kill you," intoned an irritated voice on the other end.

A neuron in Xaldin's brain attempted to send the signal to blush to Xaldin's cheeks, but it was quickly beaten to death by the other neurons in a metaphorical series of images designed to illustrate the sheer inability of Xaldin's face to produce any sort of abnormal coloring. Instead, his mouth opened in a wide grin, as he realized that his dreaded caller was not, in fact, his mother, but was an old friend.

"Ah! Vexen, how wonderful to hear from you again. It's been so long."

"Six years, if I recall correctly," Vexen responded dryly. His natural aversion to the telephone was resurfacing quickly. Xaldin picked up on it instantly, and quickly got the conversation to its point.

"Why would you be calling, Vexen?"

There was a pause. "Xaldin, I've been working at the CRC for twelve years now," he began. Xaldin nodded, realized he was on the telephone, and vocally affirmed this. Vexen went on.

"I need to call in a favor."

This caught Xaldin off guard. He hadn't been aware that he owed Vexen anything. "What?"

"A favor, Xaldin, I'm sure you've heard of it."

"Do I owe you one?"

"Countless."

He searched his memory carefully, and finally it clicked. Of course.

Xigbar.

"What is it you need done, Vexen?"

He listened carefully as the voice on the other end gave him carefully detailed instructions, occasionally stopping to write something down, and then, without a word, he reset the phone on its stand.

He scanned his notes again, and then felt a wide grin spread across his face.

Looks like he'd get some action in after all.

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

Vexen carefully replaced the telephone on its cradle, taking deep breaths. He stared at it for quite some time. Marluxia was almost concerned.

"Vexen?"

The blond man slowly turned his head to peer out at Marluxia out of the corner of his eye. "…Marluxia."

"What was all that about?"

Vexen sighed and leaned back in his chair, flicking his long hair out of his eyes. "Weren't you listening, Marluxia?"

"Of course not."

"I see. I suppose you'll just have to find out, then."

Marluxia smirked, and, moving gracefully around to the back of Vexen's chair, he pulled the back down suddenly, lowering his face until Vexen could feel Marluxia's breath on his lips.

"Or you could tell me now."

* * *

A/N: Sorry this was so short. It's just the one place to end it. Don't worry though, the next few chapters will more than make up for it, I think.

As always, review.

Akane


	10. How About I Don't?

**_This story was co-written by Akane Arihyoshi and Razori-chan. It was written by Akane, and thought-up by Razori._**

**Title: **How My Boss Drove Me Insane

**Authors:** Akane Arihyoshi and Razori-chan

**Disclaimer:** Ahaha, if _only_.

**Warnings:** Zexion being thrown around by an amused Luxord, Luxord giving Zexion flowers, Xigbar letting his hair down, Kairi making an appearance (don't worry, it's not a long one,a nd she won't appear in any more chapters if I can help it), Riku and Sora being mentioned in passing as a couple, Demyx passing out, and two boys going on a date together.

Yeah. Read faster.

* * *

Xigbar tugged at the curlers harshly, wincing in pain, before giving up and taking them out the way the directions on the box said to. Observing himself carefully in the mirror, he turned to Demyx and fanned out his hair vainly. "Does this look alright?" he asked worriedly, leaping back around to look at himself in the mirror again. Demyx nodded.

"Man, Xigbar. Stop keeping your hair up in that rubber band all the time, it's so pretty…" he said wistfully, reaching up carefully to touch the soft curls before getting his hand slapped away harshly. He recoiled and pouted. "Xigbar…" he whined.

"I just got it perfect, Demyx. Lord knows what you'd do to it. Your touch would probably set it on fire, or something; you're like the goddess of misfortune. On another note, I don't think you can do anything to my outfit, it's inflammable, so help me get this zipper up."

Demyx obeyed quickly and stepped back in awe. "You're stunning, Xiggy!" he gushed, barely resisting the urge to violently hug the older man. Xigbar waved his hand dramatically.

"And that's a surprise how? I'm always stunning."

Just then a new voice cut in. "Both of you, shut up before I knock your heavily perfumed heads off."

Both men winced. "Yes, ma'am," they chorused obediently. Kairi looked appeased.

"Good boys."

Axel and Roxas had both sworn on their mother's graves (never mind that both of their parents were far from deceased; Roxas's mother having very recently completed a triathlon, and Axel's mother being a highly respected iron worker) that Kairi was the sweetest girl they'd ever had the pleasure to meet, Demyx excluded (Demyx wasn't quite sure how to react to this, but thanked them anyway). It became tragically apparent, however, that they were, as Demyx eloquently said, "big fat stinking liars". Kairi was about as nice as a bathed cat is apt to be, and she was quick to let them know. When confronted, Axel and Roxas maintained that since Kairi was Roxas's twin brother Sora's ex-girlfriend and still one of his best friends (the other of which he was currently dating), they were obliged to be nice to her, which also apparently included lying through their teeth about her less-than-attractive personality every chance they got.

This lie had prompted Xigbar and Demyx to recruit her for a very important job as their personal make-up and hair designer for the night of the big party at the CRC. She readily agreed, because, of course, it's the express dream of most girls around her age to be allowed to design the make-up and hair of gay men, whether they have specific talent in such things or not.

At the moment, Kairi was secretly thrilled. Xigbar's hair had truly turned out perfectly, and Demyx…it had to be illegal for a man to look that much like the opposite gender. If Kairi hadn't known better, she would have staked her life on Demyx being a woman. As it was, she was still a little doubtful that he was, in fact, fully male.

Hermaphrodite, maybe?

At this point in time, however, she was in no position to ask, as she had Demyx scared to death of her. Hardly a mood conducive to secret sharing. To make up for it, she chucked one of the fallen hair curlers at his head and scowled at him.

(Jeez, _women_. What's wrong with all of you?)

Demyx whimpered, but straightened up abruptly when he heard the customary annoying chimes that signaled someone at his door, followed almost immediately by impatient knocking.

"Right on time," Xigbar remarked, fluffing out his hair and slipping his shoes on hurriedly, rushing to the door. "I'm coming, you fools. Keep your pants on."

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

I clutched the flowers tightly, wincing as the cellophane crinkled in protest. The reason I was here was anyone's guess, though Luxord seemed to know, judging by the grin he was wearing, and the fact that he'd given me flowers earlier that evening (he explained that they weren't, in fact, for me, and that I would find out their purpose in due time).

It was odd. He'd just shown up at my doorstep that afternoon after work, holding a bouquet in one hand, and a garment bag in the other. The flowers he handed to me, and then he strolled right in, announcing that I was to change into whatever was in the bag without complaint or suffer castration.

…what would any man have done? I put the damn tuxedo on.

We'd then hopped into Luxord's expensive European car and driven off. I began to memorize the route, convinced that he was kidnapping me and dragging me off to a club, or something equally horrendous, and I would need to give detailed directions to the taxi I would have to call to pick me up.

I was tremendously surprised when Luxord stopped the car in front of a nice apartment building, getting out of the car. I scrambled to follow him, and ended up on the middle floor in front of a cheery yellow door with a brass number nine on it, hearing an echoing chime, followed by Luxord immediately pounding on the door and an unmistakably familiar voice shouting at us to keep our undergarments on and straightened (the version told to you readers in the above paragraphs was the kinder one, of course, so feel free to revert to that).

Then Xigbar threw open the door, and all the pieces started to come together into one cheery conclusion.

I was screwed.

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

Kairi shoved Demyx unceremoniously out of his own bedroom, ignoring his protests. He dug his heels into the floor and hissed at her angrily.

"There are two people at the door, Kairi! _Why are there two people at the door?!_" he snarled, glaring daggers at her.

"You didn't have a date, _n'est__pas_? Well, Zexion didn't have a date either," she exclaimed in a faux French accent, batting her eyelashes at Demyx and bursing into a fit of giggles.

Demyx thought he felt his heart stop. "Excuse me?"

"…_Zexion_."

Demyx fell to the floor in a dead faint, and Kairi's grin disappeared as she realized that all her work on his hair would go to ruin if she didn't move him, and he was twice her size.

Happy days.

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

I was formulating a plan of escape all throughout tea, and perfecting my top two choices as we listened to Kairi telling us that _my date _would be a little late in the coming, seeing as _my date _was unconscious.

As she said the words 'my date', all my carefully formulated plans flew out the window, so to speak, along with both my arms and most of my torso as I threw open the window and jumped out onto the balcony in accordance to plan 'what-the-fuck'.

I quite liked this plan until I was forcibly dragged back into the apartment by Luxord's arms around my knees and unceremoniously dumped on the settee. My hands were bound behind my back with an old thick wire bracelet that Xigbar had come across in the junk drawer during his general ransacking of the kitchen for food, and a clean dishtowel was pushed into my mouth. This didn't exactly impair my speech; I think Xigbar and Luxord just did it because of the effect it created.

Twenty minutes later, Kairi came out again and told them to get me decent, because my date had woken up. They pulled what remained of the dishtowel out of my mouth and untied my hands, instead grabbing on to both of my elbows in a firm but sufficiently cruel grip.

That's when Demyx entered the scene.

I felt my jaw drop, and hastily closed it again. This…might not be so bad, I guessed. A pretty girl for my date wasn't all bad.

Now, as I say this, keep in mind that at the time, I still had never been formally introduced to Demyx. I had only ever seen him in the halls and in Xemnas's office those few times.

I thought for sure that I was going on a date with a woman.

God, was I wrong.

* * *

A/N: Next chapter will be part one of the CRC's big party! Aren't we all just excited. I'd like to...warn, I guess...yeah. I'd like to warn you all that these next few chapters will have heavily (or...well, not so heavily unless you want it to) implied Zemyx. I hope that didn't make any of you too anxious for the next few chapters...I hope to post at the same rate I have been, so that's...what? One a week? One a fortnight? Something like that. When it's done, I post it. Sometimes it just doesn't get done for a week or two, and sometimes it gets done after only a few days, and I have to pace myself. You'll live. It might be quite a while, though, on this one.

Reviews are always nice. Who knows, they might even make the next chapter come faster. And now I'm shamelessly bribing, and I'll stop.

Akane


	11. Xigbar's Party

**Title:** How My Boss Drove Me Insane

**Author:** Denoument

**Disclaimer:** Oh, trust me. If I owned Kingdom Hearts...well, for one thing, I'd have a giant heart shaped moon in my backyard, which would be infinitely hard to explain to the neighbors...

**Warnings:** Oh dear lord, you're in for it. We've got...some Zemyx, some very implied XigLux, some Akuroku, an irrate Lexaeus, magic and illusions, cake (it's got alcohol in it, so I need to warn all the kiddies.), and chemisty references that you most likely won't get unless you've very recently taken the course (like, this morning.)......also some death. Sorry kiddos, it just had to be done.

* * *

Four clicks resounded in the parking lot as we all stepped out of Luxord's car. The CRC was sparsely decorated, paper streamers hanging from the roof, a few plastic party decorations scattering the area, but it was still decorated, and Xigbar's face lit up. He grabbed Luxord's arm, dragged him through the door, and they successfully went missing for the next half hour.

Demyx blinked at the door, and then turned to me. I quit breathing, convinced that he was going to ask me something terribly important, but instead a corner of his mouth went up in a lopsided smile and he asked "Well, Zexion, are we going in or what?"

My mouth opened, closed, and I nodded. He grinned and threaded his arm around my own, dragging me inside before I could step forward.

My nervousness about the situation promptly evaporated as we stepped in the doors.

We weren't the only people there. Not by far. The building was hardly big enough for its employees, but all of them and their dates were shoved into the front room alone. Even being a rather large front reception, the air was choked. I shoved my way through the crowd to a less occupied area, and threw open the door to a side office--sadly, also crammed with people--that seemed to have more breathable air, due to a thankfully open window on the far right.

I dragged him through yet another open door, and we finally found ourselves in an empty room to the side of the building. He sighed, and sat down on a beaten up old couch against the far wall. "Zexion?"

I jumped a bit, looking up from my feet to Demyx. "Yes?"

"You know, you don't have to stay here. You can go home, if you like."

I thought about this for a long moment. Going home would mean I could rid myself of this party. On the other, more important hand (my right, coincidentally, as I'm not ambidextrous), I didn't have a car, and the public form of transportation had gone out of service an hour ago.

"I'll stay," I offered graciously, sitting down beside Demyx. He looked mollified.

"Th-thank-you…"

We fell into conversation, and before we knew it, we'd been in that small side room for twenty-five minutes.

What happened next, I should almost have been expecting.

I know what you're thinking. Our faces grow unbearably close, the tension in the air thickens until we can hardly breath, and who needs breath anyway, because our next act leaves us unable to obtain any air as our mouths press together in a heated and passionate kiss. Yeah. No.

Instead, Xigbar jumped into the room dressed in a pirate's costume, locked me in a closet, and held some sort of handkerchief up to Demyx's mouth and nose until he collapsed, before dragging the unconscious secretary out of the room.

It was a tribute to Xigbar's sheer talent at idiocy that he managed to get this all done within seconds of opening the door.

Managing to kick my way out of the closet, I stormed after them. Suddenly, the floor was rapidly flying upwards, and I braced myself for a nasty head wound, only to have my brain laboriously readjust its concern to the throbbing pain in my left ankle. The floor was approximately a half of a foot from my head, while my leg was suspended from a rope, which was attached to a pulley on the ceiling. For the life of me I had no idea how Xigbar had managed this in only three seconds.

I must have hung there from the ceiling for ten minutes of excruciating pain before someone found me. The door was flung open suddenly and Axel and Roxas walked in. They weren't speaking, as their mouths were really preoccupied with something else, and I doubt they would have noticed me if I hadn't cleared my throat rather loudly. Axel looked up.

"Hello Zexion," he said calmly, as if he saw interns hanging from the ceiling regularly. "I suppose you won't mind, will you? We're kind of in the middle of something."

"Oh yes, of course, Axel," I snapped. "I'll just get up and walk out of here then. Sorry to have bothered you."

"Ah, well…yes, that could be a problem for you, it seems."

"Gee, you think?" I snarled.

At this, Axel turned to Roxas. "Well, what do you think, Roxy? Should we let him down?"

Roxas debated this for a moment. "Nah."

"You heard the man, I'm powerless."

They then went straight back to what they had been doing when the came in, and, all physical pain momentarily forgotten by this nasty turn of events, I set about pulling a scientific experiment on just how tightly I could close my eyes.

Eventually the couple was kicked out by Lexaeus. He walked in, grabbed Axel by the hair, and threw him out of the room, Roxas following soon after. (Coincidentally, neither of them have had a normal hairstyle since then. Indeed, Axel's hair sticks out in a ninety degree angle from his head. It's quite possibly one of the funniest things I have ever seen in my life.)

Looking slightly disgruntled, he finally turned around to look at me. Abruptly his expression changed to a long-suffering one, and he pulled out a knife. My face drained of color (no small feat, seeing as all my blood was currently in my head thanks to my skewed angle) and I prepared myself for death. Suddenly, my head hit the floor, followed by my back and legs at an alarming rate. Lexaeus sheathed the knife, mumbled something, and shuffled out the door.

After the blood in my body went through a system of diffusion and evened out a little, I stood and limped purposefully out of the room. I shuffled down the hall, before banging open the door to the main hall. I stopped suddenly, looked around, and then returned my gaze to the humongous cake resting in the middle of the room.

That most definitely hadn't been there before.

Using a decorative (but useful) cane I stole off a man in a top hat, I pushed through the crowd as best I could, and began my search for Demyx and Xigbar. It was futile, I knew that, but it was something to do, and let's face it, I was bored out of my mind. I pushed past an unattractive secretary in an out-dated gown and walked around aimlessly for a bit until I was absolutely certain of what I had already been vaguely aware of.

For all I knew, Demyx and Xigbar could be halfway to the Pride Lands.

Shrugging, I did the most intelligent thing one can possibly do when faced with Xigbar.

I gave up completely.

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

It was spectacularly dark wherever he was.

Not an extremely intelligent first thought upon waking, but observant, none the less. The place was, in fact, completely void of any source of light. And it was damn small, too.

Demyx wearily shook his head and clawed the wall closest to him in an attempt to find some sort of hold. Finding none, he let his arm fall back to his side. He struggled to remember the last significant amount of time, but was unable to. This, while certainly interesting, was only number two on his list of priorities, and he wasn't at all distressed. Instead, he turned his attention to more important matters. He was, in fact, in what seemed to be a circular box made of wood. This wasn't very comforting.

Deciding it couldn't at all hurt to attempt an escape, he gingerly stood up as much as he could, holding his hand out to be careful not to hit his head on the low ceiling. Touching it carefully, he realized it had some give, and so after a second of thought, he pushed with as much strength as he could muster and popped through the opening on the box.

Light flooded into his vision, and he closed his eyes against the glare. After he had adjusted, he opened them, and was surprised to find himself in the middle of the main hall.

His first thought was that he seemed to be standing in a cake. This didn't bother him in the least.

His second thought was that it was actually really chilly. This, while disconcerting, was still not given very much attention.

His third thought, sadly, was interrupted as Demyx belatedly realized that he was, in fact, wearing very little clothing. His outfit, or lack thereof, could very well be described as the one worn by strippers on the job. This, of course, greatly frightened him.

He all but dove straight back into the cake.

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

I was on my way back to the laboratory to find Vexen (and possibly start a pot of coffee) when I saw the top of the cake move. The mobility of cake being a very odd thing and myself being a very curious man, I immediately went to investigate. Just as I arrived, the top of the cake completely flew off, and I was mildly surprised to see Demyx blinking in the sudden light. Wondering what could possibly be going on, I hobbled closer to assist him, but stop when he stood up.

They'd put him in a stripper's costume, I thought, but that wasn't what surprised me the most.

Demyx was a man.

Shock and something similar to cardiac arrest jolted through me, and the next few seconds didn't really register as my mind rebooted. I was not only surprised, I was hurt that he would have kept something so important from me for so long, and that feeling scared me, until I was a parade of emotions all threatening to sue. I barely even noticed as Luxord wheeled the cake out of the room. I hardly cared that I was suddenly limping after them.

I just wanted to know what the hell was going on, and what chapter I'd been left off on.

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

At Vexen's order, Xaldin was perched precariously on the rooftop of the CRC, looking down through a sunroof that had never seen much sun. Through the reflections on the glass, it was almost impossible to see inside, so instead of actually doing his job, he was-- in his big scary police officer voice--practicing the Miranda rights.

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say will be horribly disfigured and discredited before being thrown before a pack of ignominious lawyers."

Well, some version of it, anyway.

It was quite possibly a tribute to his sheer talent at being completely impervious to the elements that Xaldin was surviving at all in the five degree weather and thirty mile per hour wind in naught but shorts and a TTPD**(1) **shirt. He carefully shifted his weight on the glass, still amazingly unbroken, and peered inside for a quick check. He didn't seem to be needed quite yet, and so he held his ground.

He was only vaguely aware of what he was supposed to be looking out for. Vexen had only mentioned a plan of Xigbar's, and he'd already seen quite a few of those. Deciding that it was no use, he carefully shuffled back to the actual roof, and began walking in search of another sunroof. Finding one a ways away, he peered into it, and reeled back in shock. Blinking a few dozen times, he gathered his courage and pressed his face to the glass once more.

Two people he vaguely recognized as Axel and Roxas were making out on the couch, overlooked by an upside down man he didn't recognize at all. Upon second glance, he realized that the unnamed man was hung from the ceiling by his ankle, and completely mortified. Sighing, he got up, bounded over to his previous perch, and looked in on the main hall again.

Something was going to happen soon. He just knew it.

But maybe it could wait for a minute while he popped down to the corner shop for a mocha.

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

Eventually Luxord left the room, and I was able to sneak in. "Demyx," I called out. "It's just me, I found some clothes for you."

He poked his head out of the cake, and I had to resist the very uncharacteristic urge to burst out laughing. He stood up a little, not wearing anything on his top half that I could see, and reached out a hand for the bundle I held out of him. I turned around and waited for him to get dressed. I heard him land on the floor behind me, and I turned.

He wasn't looking at me, and his actions suggested that he wasn't going to start. I hadn't found him shoes, and so he dragged his bare foot lightly against the carpet, seeming for all intents and purposes to be completely enthralled with this. I cleared my throat slightly, but he didn't even flinch. Finally it clicked in my head what his body language meant. I hated to admit it, but he kind of had a good reason to be ashamed.

"Demyx," I said. He finally looked up, but focused his attention about three feet to my right.

"I'm sorry," he said. At that point, I kind of felt like an idiot. How could I not have noticed? The deeper voice, the facial structure, the obvious height differences between the genders…it seemed so simple, so blatant. "I didn't mean to drag you into this. I didn't mean to drag myself into this, but I did, and I got you involved too."

I said nothing. He looked up, then winced, and looked back down.

"And…you probably hate me now, right? Can't say I blame you, I mean, I was kind of a major jerk," he admitted with a sigh.

Yeah. Obviously.

"But…well, I guess I don't know. I'm really sorry. The rest of this is kind of up to you right now. I'd love to be friends."

I pondered this for a moment. One part of me was screaming in indignation, totally offended, but I brushed that part off, since the indignation was partially due to my own terrible observation skills. I considered forgiveness.

"No."

He looked crestfallen. "I…okay…" he said, completely deflating.

"I'm not going to forgive you. But we can definitely still be friends," I clarified. He looked up, utterly confused.

"I don't know about where you're from, but here in Radiant Garden, we use logic with our words."

"Obviously."

He stared at me. "I'm confused now. How can we be friends if…?" he trailed off. I smiled.

"You never really did anything wrong. You didn't have to tell me. In all honesty, we barely even knew each other before tonight."

He gaped at me.

"You can really just brush something off, just like that, huh?"

"One of my better traits, I think."

He grinned.

"Buddy, I wish I were you."

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

He paced through his laboratory, pulling at his hair in frustration. Absolutely nothing! Nothing! And if there was nothing, there wasn't something, and the whole calculation made his head spin, which made him even madder.

Why would Marluxia do something like this?!

Most likely to make Vexen's head spin, the bastard.

He paced, and paced, and screamed once or twice, but nothing more made sense to Vexen than it had fifteen minutes ago. This was so like Marluxia. A subtle gesture to drive everyone insane. Never something big, just something that required little effort, little attempt, but provided the effect. It drove the scientist crazy. And, as always, he was overanalyzing it, as Marluxia must have known he would. That bastard.

But honestly. Flowers? A bouquet, at that. Of roses.

It wasn't their anniversary. It wasn't Vexen's birthday. It wasn't a holiday, or at least not one recognized by the calendar hanging on the wall to Vexen's right. It wasn't even _Marluxia's_ birthday. The nerve of him.

He had to be the most infuriating man in existence.

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

Armed with a hot beverage and caffeine, Xaldin resumed his watch. Nothing much had taken place in his absence, it seemed. Couples were still dancing to obscene music, drinking the spiked punch, attempting conversations. Tragically normal.

Vexen had promised him some action, damn it.

He drew pictures in the remaining fog on the glass sunroof. This was so boring. Right now, he could be home, controller in hand, playing nastily violent video games. But no. Instead, he was sitting in the rapidly darkening outdoors, waiting for an event he couldn't predict.

This was not how he preferred to spend his Saturdays.

Suddenly, he heard screams. Excitement building, he looked into the room, watching as the tiny people below scrambled for cover, running from something Xaldin couldn't quite see. He caught a glance of a long ponytail with streaks of grey in it, and he smiled. Action time. He glanced around and stood, then stopped. It had taken him a full five minutes to scale the ladder from the ground to the roof. By the time Xaldin managed to get down to the ground floor, Xigbar could have done something horrible. He looked around worriedly, and then, in a stunning burst of ingenuity, it hit him.

The only way to go was down.

…Well, that was as good a way as any other.

He kneeled back down on the roof. Taking a deep breath, he braced himself and plunged his hand through the thick glass, shattering a decently sized hole into the sunroof.

Gravity was a wonderful thing.

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

Xigbar strolled out into the main hall, and jumped up the steps to a stage that had most definitely not been there the last time he had been in the room. Luxord nodded to him and threw him a top hat, which Xigbar deftly caught and placed on his head.

"Ladies and gentlemen, my wonderful audience," he began charmingly, with a long, deep bow. He pulled a handkerchief out of his sleeve with a flourish, draping it ever so carefully over his forearm. "You've all heard of magic, but tonight, I show you the beauty of it."

The audience, being composed of Xigbar's coworkers, were understandably frightened, but all eager for some entertainment, nonetheless. The waited expectantly. Luxord casually moved over to the door.

"Yes, magic. Something you've all no doubt witnessed," he continued, waving his arms extravagantly. "I have mastered it. Take, for example, this coin."

He flashed a coin for all to see, then placed it in his hand. With a few maneuvers, he opened his hand, and the coin had gone. "This simple art of taking away. You do it all the time, mathematicians call it subtraction."

A few people laughed. The atmosphere in the room lightened as it become clear that Xigbar was only going to do cheap out-of-the-book tricks. He grinned.

Luxord bolted the door.

"I have with me here a small phial of trinitrotoluene. Nothing to be concerned about, it's relatively harmless," he assured. He place the phial on the table to his left. "It's just something I found in my pocket. Anyway, I'm going to make it disappear."

The crowd clapped approvingly, and Xigbar's smile got wider. "Watch, people. This is a delicate thing, magic."

He placed the handkerchief carefully over the phial on the table. He stepped back until her was about ten feet away. People began to whisper.

"This is what's so special about my kind of magic," Xigbar said suddenly. "As you can see, I'm about ten feet away from the object itself, and yet, I'll still make it disappear from right where I'm standing. How to do that, you wonder, if I can't even reach it?"

The terribly observant among his audience began to note the gleaming eyes, and took a few steps back. No one else saw a thing.

It was all very sudden. One minute Xigbar was standing there calmly, observing the table…

…and the next minute he had whipped out a handgun from his sleeve and shot with perfect aim at the small phial.

The next second was hard to see, as everyone attempted to cover their eyes from the amazing blast the harmless powder in the small glass tube had produced.

Once things had stopped, they all looked incredulously up at Xigbar, who was grinning from ear to ear.

"Now, for my next trick, I'll need a volunteer."

Quite suddenly all hell broke loose. People ran screaming away from the stage, only to find that the doors had been bolted shut and were guarded by a chuckling Luxord. People were falling, running, doors were opening and slamming, noises were up and loud and everyone was doing something, running, screaming, and pandemonium ensued. People who actually stopped to think about that powder were quickly trampled.

But, really, when you could actually stop to think about it, it was obvious. TriNitroToluene.

TNT.

At that moment, a man burst into the room from the ceiling, and landed on top of Xigbar. The next thing anyone could remember, Xigbar was being led away in handcuffs and read his rights by a surprisingly thrilled police officer. Luxord had disappeared.

Xemnas stood in the middle of it all, schmoozing his way through the damage and insulted guests. He shook his head in between, cursing the mere thought of Xigbar at every turn and angle.

As a small side note, I regret to inform you that Xemnas, the goldfish, was in a bowl of water in the middle of the room, being honored, and was knocked down and trampled during the temporary mayhem.

Rest In Peace.

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

Demyx looked up suddenly from our conversation, turning his head to the door. I followed his gaze.

"What's wrong?"

It's just…" he said, frowning. He looked at me.

"Zexion, did you hear something?"

"No."

* * *

(1) Twilight Town Police Department

A/N: Ten. Pages. Ten freaking pages. It took me....FOREVER. Obviously. You're all probably pissed at me for taking so long. I finally just sat down and wrote about three pages of it today, fingers be damned. 3,694 words total. Jeepers. But I think it was kind of worth it. It sure made it easier to go back and edit something at the beginning of the party if I got a better idea later on. And let me tell you, I did that a lot. I originally wrote something down, then about the fifth page I thought about it, changed it, and went back and edited it out. That happened about twelve times. Be glad I didn't post this seperated into two different chapters. The story line would have died.

So yeah. I've been posting so many sad stories lately, it felt really good to just sit down and write something humorous...yeah...really nice. I think I might be digging up that sense of humor I used to have, before high school sucked it out. Darn you, education. Who needs smarts anyways. It's not like normal people use addition in everyday life...or...something like that.

Live, Laugh, Love, Learn, and freaking Review.

~Akane


	12. Bells

Title: How My Boss Drove Me Insane

Author: Denoument

Disclaimer: See this fanfic? Yeah. It's called a fanfic for a reason. Not because it would look pretty inscribed on a fan (my god, the size of such a fan...), but because it was made by a fan, the people kind of fan, and a fan we shall ever remain. The people kind, hopefully. I don't think I'd like to be a paper fan.

Warnings: There's some major AkuRoku in this one. There's absolutely no way you could translate the AkuRoku in this chapter into friendship. If it's just not your thing...well, then how the hell have you gotten this far?

* * *

With Xigbar away for a brief vacation in jail, the CRC chugged along smoother than ever before. Axel and Roxas discovered something vital for once, Vexen cured it, and Xemnas filed it under 'S'. All was well in our little society.

We were not, as Xigbar so cynically predicted that we would be, attacked by a horde of terrorists in any way, shape, or form.

Which was, actually, rather convenient.

I think the only really important or interesting thing that happened that entire fortnight was the rather surprising development with Axel and Roxas. I don't think any of us were prepared for it, not even Roxas. Axel is really amazingly astonishing sometimes.

It was hardly a special day, rather ordinary in most respects before Axel took control of it. We were all thoroughly enjoying the break in calamity, and not a single person was anything less than ecstatic, with the exception of a rather irate Vexen, who spent most of the week grumbling about a personal issue involving a bouquet of roses and an effeminate stalker.

And Lexaeus, of course, but he was perpetually stuck in a display of acute pain. That was just his personality.

Per usual, Axel and Roxas were busy doing everything but their assignment. Having already filled up the whiteboard with crude drawings and crass words and broken the eraser over Axel's head in a tiff, they had resorted to attempting to build a house of cards from the deck they had annexed from Luxord's desk, and were failing miserably because of the sheer amount of attention deficit disorder between the two.

As their cards fell to the desk once again, Axel looked up thoughtfully, then turned to Roxas. "Roxas," he said carefully. "Do you love me?"

Roxas paused with his hands in midair, and dropped the cards he'd been holding. He regained his wits, and picked them up again to prop them up against each other. "Honestly, Axel," he sighed, piling another card on top of the former two absentmindedly. "What do you think? What with this?"

"Just answer the question, Roxas."

Startled by the oddly serious tone in Axel's voice (and the realization that Axel had just used his full name twice in a row, without any sort of affectionate mangling of the letters), Roxas paused and looked up at his partner. "Yes," he said, confused. Axel appeared to be pleased with this answer, sliding across the desk to sit by Roxas, and put his arm around the blond's waist. He ignored the man's growl at the new demolish of his card house. He helped him rebuild it quietly, and the next thirty minutes were spent in relative peace.

Then, of course, Axel knocked the card house down again, and that started a lighthearted fight between the two until both were laughing and the entire deck of cards were dispersed evenly throughout the entire room. They collapsed onto their pushed together desks, staring up at the ceiling. After they could start breathing again, they sat up and looked around the room at the mess they'd made. Sighing, Roxas leaned his head on the redhead's shoulder. "I don't know how I managed without you, Rox," Axel said contentedly. Roxas snorted.

"I don't know how I manage _with_ you," he teased. Axel swatted at him halfheartedly, but he was smiling. Suddenly, he turned to Roxas.

"Marry me."

To Roxas's credit, he managed to not faint. He did, however, topple off the desk unceremoniously, falling into a heap on the floor. Axel started, and reaching over, helped Roxas back onto the desk. Roxas, wide-eyed, shook his head disbelievingly. "That wasn't even a proper question," he managed weakly. Axel smiled.

"I know."

Roxas blinked. "Axel, was that just something random, or do you actually want me to answer that?"

Axel thought for a moment. "I actually want you to answer that," he clarified, wrapping his arm around Roxas lovingly and pulling him close, dropping a kiss on his cheek. "It's kind of an important question, you know?" Roxas nodded faintly, only vaguely aware of anything at the moment. His entire head was spinning furiously. Finally, he turned to Axel.

"Yeah."

"Yeah?" Axel asked quietly.

"Yeah."

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

Demyx was typing an important legal document onto his computer when the door to his office burst open. Being rather used to this, he calmly stopped typing, picked up a paper weight, and, pulling back his arm, looked up to aim. Confronted with the sudden realization that Xigbar was safely locked away in jail, he was a little surprised to see Axel and Roxas standing there happily. He set down the paper weight, sighed, and went back to typing.

"Whatever it is that you have to say, Xemnas won't care. Go back to work," he said jadedly, pausing in his computer work to check the spelling of a few words. Axel stepped into the room gracefully and seated himself opposite from Demyx, pulling Roxas down with him. Demyx looked up suspiciously.

Axel grinned. "It's actually you we came to see, Dem," he said cheerfully. Demyx's eyes lit up in a mixture of confusion and excitement.

"Really?"

"Really, Dem," Axel said. Demyx smiled. "As it happens, there's a rather important event coming up for the two of us that we'd like announced. I'd do it myself, but I've heard that they require something of a feminine touch. Naturally, I at once thought of you."

Demyx was confused, to be sure, but flattered nonetheless. "Th-thank-you," he stammered. Axel looked pleased.

"Think nothing of it, Demyx, nothing at all."

Demyx straightened out his skirt--a nervous habit of his--and looked up at the pair. "So what is it you need done?" he asked cheerfully. "Some sort of birthday or anniversary thing?"

Axel smiled as Demyx pulled up another blank word document on which to type his requested notice.

"Yeah, something like that."

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

Vexen very rarely used the computer. He considered it a horrible contraption, and hated it for its rapid substitution of his beloved books. The only reason he ever touched it was to use the email Xemnas required. Slowly typing in a password with his two pointer fingers, he grabbed the plastic thing by the monitor and waved it around until he could see a moving dot flicker to life on the screen.

Growling unhappily, he located the envelope on the bleak gray background, and pushed the plastic thing around until the little black dot on the screen was on top of it. He banged his fist down on the button twice in rapid succession, and felt a little speck of pride go up as the program opened, a feeling that he did not permit, and consequently suppressed.

Looking closely at the unintelligible mess, he inwardly snarled at the sight of an emboldened line across the set the computer cheerfully informed him was an inbox. Why inboxes couldn't have been an actual entity, Vexen would never know. He himself would gladly have allowed his own payment to be docked for the salary of a messenger to bring them nice, tangible, _paper_ updates.

He pushed over to the new letter and smashed the button again to see it pop up. _If it's another one of those nasty useless advertisements, _he found himself thinking, _I'll figure out how to use this damned machine just so I can send them something nasty back._

Realizing it was from Demyx, he managed to scroll down to look at it, only to be mildly confused. The font was curly and almost unintelligible, and it was put onto a rose-covered background that screamed femininity. He paused idly.

_I didn't know computers could do that._

Squinting, he took a look at the actual words. He paused, reread everything, and stopped dead in shock and bemusement. The bemusement, however, all too quickly turned into exasperation. Those damn kids. What were they playing at?

Marriage, honestly. Who did they think they were kidding?

He stopped and analyzed the situation calmly. After a few moments it actually did begin to make sense. Axel and Roxas were young, horribly, annoyingly young, and, as loathe as Vexen was to admit it, almost all their actions could be explained through hormones alone. That was just the wonder of growing up. Whether or not it was specifically Vexen's own problem took quite a bit more thought. One hand declared that it was his duty as a responsible (if not necessarily caring) individual to put an end to this nonsense immediately. Another, more sadistic side told him it would be fun to watch them squirm in the aftermath of their actions.

Consequences were wonderful things.

He was just about to drop the whole matter and go back to his experiments when a sudden thought struck him. The thought of a wedding, a big, horrible, expensive wedding, and he groaned inwardly.

God, he'd be expected to give a financial gift.

Damn this.

* * *

A/N: Wait, what's this? Another chapter so soon? It was kind of my present to you guys, because I'm so sorry about the whole transition, and so sorry for the huge wait on the last chapter, that I decided I was going to put this new chapter up really soon, and here I am. It's all up and ready to roll.

This is, alas, just a filler. There's going to be a sequel to this chapter, though, in about another...oh...four chapters, I think. Maybe three. Don't worry, we won't keep you hanging. This wedding will happen, I promise you. It's something I've been wanting to write since I first got into Kingdom Hearts fanfiction. You'll have it. Meanwhile, you can keep yourself busy with the wonderful second stage of our story, for the next three or four chapters. We've had this one planned out for ages. It should be up in due course, definitely not as long to wait for as the last chapter.

~Denoument


	13. And On The First Day

**Title: **How My Boss Drove Me Insane

**Author:** Denoument

**Warnings:** Jail escapes, driving under the influence of insanity, unconcious Demyx, mild swearing, some room-sharing, badly cut construction paper (warning: papercuts), excessive amounts of stairs, no elevator, and a game of go fish. Read at your own risk.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned this, I would jump for joy. If Kingdom Hearts were my own creation, I would be singing with the birds every morning at dawn, watching the clouds roll by without a care in the world (and thinking about how much they _**don't**_ resemble Cloud Strife [and crying about that fact, because they'd be so much cooler if they did]), laughing and shouting and living and fangirling. But I'm not, because you know what I'm doing? I'm uploading this. Oh, the sacrifices I go through for you people. (All, like, twenty of you. Screw this, I wanna own Kingdom Hearts.)(I love you all.)

* * *

No one ever quite knew how Xigbar was able to get out of jail so fast. Secretaries gossiped over it for days, and their stories got more and more absurd every time they told them. On the Monday following his release, it was told that Xigbar had blackmailed important dignitaries for a full government pardon. By Friday of that same week, they were saying that Xigbar had single-handedly sweet-talked the guard outside his cell into giving him a spoon with his lunch, and had dug his way out of the cell bit by bit for two weeks, not once breaking that little plastic spoon, and had managed to sneak out half of the convicted felons on his floor.

Frankly, I doubt very much that even Xigbar is that talented.

The only secretary that didn't care a bit was Demyx, and that was only because he was swamped with paperwork for Xemnas's upcoming annual business trip.

Now, I know what you're thinking. A business trip in this company is like a small apocalypse. And besides, scientifical institutes don't generally go on business trips. I know, I thought so too at first.

As it turns out, there's only one type of business trip ever meant for the type of business we're in, and only one official event for it. A large, swanky, exclusive meeting, meant very specifically for cardiovascular-health-types like us. It was high-class, it was competitive, and well-known and respected as quite possibly the biggest event on our calendars.

The annual meeting of the _**Hearts 'R' Us**_ association.

It occurred to me back then that when something is the only choice in a required field, the name doesn't particularly matter. I still hold, however, that it is completely ridiculous in any circumstance. The utter incapability for some people to be serious is absolutely astounding.

Everyone in the building was gladly anticipating the event as a way to get rid of their boss for a few days. Xigbar and Demyx were going with him, and while Demyx was rather well liked, Xigbar was, understandably, not. There was a great amount of cheering done when this news was released.

I was diligently working on my assigned project, per usual, when I received a memo urging me to see my superior at once. I hastened to Xemnas's office.

"You wished to see me?"

He looked up from his paperwork, and took his reading glasses off. "Ah, yes," he said offhandedly. "I did."

I stood there patiently. Eventually, he seemed to remember that more of a response was required. "Right," he said. "Zexion, I strongly suggest that you go home and pack."

I think my heart stopped for a second. "Sir?"

"You're coming with us on the business trip, of course. We need someone to verify the experiments you and Dr. Carr did, and as Vexen is rather unavailable at the moment, I'm afraid we require your services."

The little joy I'd allowed myself at the prospect of a Xigbar-free week shriveled up and died. "I'll do my best, sir," I heard myself say. He smiled.

"You're a good man, Mr. Ishida."

_I know. God damn it all, I know._

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

I'd never actually been on a gummi ship before. Frankly, I wasn't at all keen to try it. The only person in our group who actually knew how to fly it was Xigbar, a scary concept, I'm sure, but an even scarier experience. Demyx hadn't let go of his chair's arms for the last hour, and his knuckles were white. Across the room, Xemnas was carefully trying to conceal his fear with dignity and casualness, but there were whimpers coming from his corner every now and then.

As for myself, I was absolutely terrified, and the only reason no one else knew about it was that I'd locked myself in the bathroom upon arrival. It was cramped, but I didn't have to see Xigbar driving. All was…not well, I suppose, but at least mildly tolerable.

It took us five hours to get there. By the time we managed to walk out of the gummi ship, we were so badly shaken that I don't think I've ever recovered. Demyx fell over promptly after putting his feet on solid ground, and Xemnas and I had to help him into the lobby of the hotel. Xigbar looked pleased, though, for what reason, I didn't really want to know. If we _had _crashed, he probably would have looked just as utterly pleased with himself as he did then. He's a lunatic, and quite frankly his driving only proves it.

We'd barely even set foot in the door before Xemnas was being called away to a meeting. He looked mildly distressed, and pushed Demyx over onto me, causing us both to collapse. He didn't notice, however, as he was being led away.

I got up, dusted myself off, picked Demyx up (he'd fainted some time between the fall and then, and who could blame him?), and attempted to navigate the frustratingly identical hallways of the hotel. It took no less than twelve hotel staff members to point us in the correct direction of our adjoined rooms. That's when I lost all hope.

Attached to the doors were posters made out of poorly cut construction paper. Each poster had two names on it, the ones who would be sharing the room, no doubt. I looked up to check that they were the correct room numbers, then glanced briefly at the names on the doors. I did a double take.

Demyx and Xemnas were sharing a room.

Even that wasn't so bad in itself. I really could have dealt with that. The only real problem was that we had an even number of people in our group, and as half of our group was already accounted for, that left me, and…

I frantically ran over to the other door to check the sign there, completely horrified in that terrible way intelligent people often are where I hoped to god I was wrong, but found no conceivable way that I could be. I didn't disappoint.

"Mr. Zexion Ishida and Mr. Xigbar Gaines," read the poster in cheery curly font.

I almost cried.

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

The business trip was categorized into three days, each one of them a living hell. The first day was as follows:

Each member of our part woke with varying degrees of exuberance, dressed, and then came out of their rooms individually to seek refuge (and coffee) in the main lounge of the hotel. This lasted about an hour, by which time, everyone had become sufficiently annoyed with Xigbar, and all returned to their rooms in a huff, except, of course, for myself.

About an hour later, I was approached by an overly large man in a too-tight business suit carrying a violin case. The violin case he handed to me, which, when opened, was revealed to carry a violin, much to the inexplicable shock of the people around us. This he took back in a hurry, and instead, he handed me a briefcase. When examined, this contained naught but a piece of paper folded in half, which I took. It was a summons to a meeting for Xemnas, and I promised to deliver it personally. The man grunted, and walked away in a manor that strictly reminded me of our janitor back home.

Mounting the stairs (all 250 of them, god damn these fancy hotels), I managed to find my way back to our rooms. I opened the door to Xemnas and Demyx's suite.

"Sir?" I asked cautiously. There was a rustling, then Xemnas appeared from the other room in a business suit and a tie.

"Yes, Zexion?"

"There's a message for you, sir."

He strolled over and plucked the piece of paper from my hand, read it, and then walked out the door. Demyx poked his head out of the bedroom door. "Something the matter?" he said tiredly. I shook my head, and left.

I had…a while of pent up moping to do.

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

"The rules are simple."

Demyx looked up. "I'm not going to play 'go fish' with you, Xigbar, and that's final," he said tiredly. Xigbar swiped the pack of cards out of Demyx's hands and began to shuffle them in a complicated fashion.

"But you are," said Xigbar. Demyx snorted. "You don't think so now, but you will in a moment, once Xemnas gets here and I explain. Ah, there he comes now," he said cheerfully. Xemnas had opened the door to the parlor and was depositing his coat on the rack to the side of the door. "It's really all very simple," Xigbar said assuredly.

Demyx went back to watching the tropical fish swim around in the large tank next to their table. Always a bit of a fish-lover, he'd chosen this spot to hide, but in retrospect, he supposed it really wasn't much of a hidden area. Even Xigbar was allowed in the parlors of fancy hotels like this one. His eyes followed the path of another colorful fish as Xigbar waved Xemnas over and pulled out a chair for him to sit in.

"Now, what's all this?" Xemnas asked suspiciously. There's not much you can be but suspicious after a business meeting with your rival companies' CEOs. That, and Xigbar holding a pack of cards (being rarely ever a good sign without Luxord around). The one-eyed man smiled. He waited until Xemnas was seated, and then pulled something out of his back pocket. As he held them up, Demyx gasped.

Their room keys.

How the heck had he gotten their room keys? Quickly he searched his pocket, but nothing was there. "I thought it would be pretty convincing," Xigbar said, twirling the keys around in his hand before replacing them in his pocket. He took his own seat and picked up the cards again. "Feel like playing now, don't you? I thought so."

Xemnas put his head in his hands. His death seemed unavoidable now.

Xigbar dealt out the cards carefully and quickly. "The objective," he said icily, "is to win." He eyed each of them coldly. They trembled back at him. Suddenly a warm smile lit up his face. They didn't relax. He pulled out a paperclip and some twine. "This is your fishing pole," he explained matter-of-factly. He tied one end of the twine around a loop in the paperclip, and then bent the paperclip's end so that one piece of the wire stuck out at an odd angle from the other curved parts. "That's the hook."

"Are we supposed to pick up the cards with the paperclip?" Xemnas said sarcastically. Xigbar looked up in surprise.

"Well no, of course not," he said quickly. "You don't fish for _playing cards_ in rivers and streams and such, now do you? Well, I suppose _you_ might. But _we_ don't. We fish for exactly that, my dear sir, we fish for _fish_." Demyx began to sport a horrified look.

"You can't mean--" he cried. Xigbar nodded.

"Of course. We'll use the tropical fish in that tank over there," Xigbar said. "And you'd better hope you don't lose."

Xemnas spoke up. "Why shouldn't we lose? One of us is going to win, and if it's Demyx or I, we can just let the other into our room anyway as long as we have one key."

Xigbar smiled. "Loser has to pay for all the fish we slaughter."

Demyx fainted.

* * *

A/N: It's been four months. (Yes, I know you knew. I'm just boasting that I've leaned how to do sums.) And so here's a nearly 2000 word chapter for you all with almost absolutely no plot to it! I kid, I kid, this IS the plot. I think. Has any of this story really had much of a plot, seriously?

So there will be two more days to this. Enjoy this one, the next one will be up in approximately--(insert realistic time here, ignore it, then don't complain when I accidentally update this a little later).

I love all of you reviewers, seriously. Love.

Review.

~Akane


	14. And Then

Title: How My Boss Drove Me Insane

Author: Denoument

Warnings: Excessive use of sentences that don't make sense, very aggressive beepers, men that flirt with anything if it stands still long enough, coffee spillage, and twin hallways of DOOM.

Edit: Sorry, I ended up sorta kinda weird posting this, I have no idea how. Sorry if you go the message before you got the chapter.

* * *

He made his way carefully down the long hallway.

It had been an hour, and he still had nothing to do. Damn these meetings. He was _bored_, and Xemnas wasn't here, and neither was Zexion, and even Xigbar was gone, and everything was just so plain it made him want to scream. He took a left hand turn and stopped. He swore he'd been here before.

Of course, that's what he'd thought about the last twelve hallways. The hotel really hadn't wasted money on making the hallways remotely distinguishable. He shrugged and ignored it, walking on. Turning down a few more hallways he lost himself completely, and, without any hope of getting back within the next three hours, decided to take only left-hand turns until he came to something recognizable.

This plan was quickly squashed when he came to a hallway that only had two options: straight, or right.

He was saved the horror of choosing by a frantic beeping that came from his hip. This disturbed him greatly until he realized that Xemnas had clipped a beeper to his skirt pocket, and, unclipping it, he looked at it. It was completely indecipherable, just like most of the new technology on this world. He dug around in his small handbag and pulled out his cell phone grumbling. Punching the numbers on the pad quickly and deftly, he held it up to his ear.

"Yes?" a voice said on the other end. Demyx smiled.

"This beeper is a piece of crap," he said cheerfully. He could almost hear Xemnas frown.

"I hadn't realized," Xemnas said unhappily. "Anyhow, you need to come to the meeting room as soon as possible. I've already sent for Zexion, and he needs to present his project. You need to be there also."

Demyx frowned. "Why do I need to be there?"

A pause. "Damned if I know."

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

It took him just under ten minutes to navigate his way through the maze of hallways into a corridor he recognized. It took him until ten minutes later to actually find the hallway he was supposed to be in, and he quickly opened the door and rushed in.

It didn't take him very long at all to become hopelessly bored. It was a very long meeting, and such a horribly boring project that Zexion and Vexen had been working on anyway. He stifled a yawn and politely watched the screen up front without any sort of concentration at all. His thoughts wandered aimlessly.

When finally we reached a coffee break, Xemnas woke with a start. "Yes, yes!" he cried cheerfully. "So that's our project!"

Demyx nudged him. "Our project was done with an hour ago." I nodded, confirming. Xemnas looked mildly upset, but then grimaced.

"Coffee," he grunted. Demyx sprang into action almost immediately, heels clacking across the room and out the door on his way to what I hoped would be the coffee machine.

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

Demyx thought himself very lucky that the coffee stand was only three hallways down from the meeting room. The halls down in this part of the hotel were more distinguished and pretty, easier to find again when you wanted to. He was less lucky in that he only had two hands to carry three cups with.

This could be potentially problematic.

But just as he was really getting into the swing of things, a man rushed over past him and knocked him into a wall. He spilled coffee all down his and the other man's front, yelping from the heat. The other man stopped.

"My sincerest apologies, miss!" he gushed, rushing over to the refreshments counter to retrieve a couple dozen napkins and returning to attempt to clean the front of Demyx's blouse. He muttered apologies as he went along. Demyx snatched the napkins out of his hand.

"I'll do it, it was my fault, I shouldn't have been carrying so many," he said quickly, embarrassed. The other man looked up.

"You're absolutely adorable when you blush," he said distantly, openly staring at Demyx now. The blond blushed even harder.

"I must protest," he said in a fluster, pushing past back to the refreshments counter, but the man grabbed his wrist.

"Hey, girl, how'd you like to have some fun?" he drawled. Demyx turns suddenly and gave him a long, cold glare.

"I said, I must protest," he said in a much deeper voice. The man shuffled away in confusion.

"You're--"

But exactly what Demyx was he never got to hear, because at that exact moment Xigbar burst into the room with his video camera aimed at the people around the bar.

Demyx supposed that when you didn't know what it was, Xigbar's camera really did look like a pretty lethal gun. He almost giggled.

"Hands in the air!" Xigbar cried. Everyone in the room complied, save for Demyx, who was crawling into a corner to mop himself up and dissolve into a fit of laughter.

"It's more frightening than a rampaging tortoise, more annoying than your in-laws, and more awesome than a pack of French tourists. Who am I? I'm Xiggy, you fools, and I'm here to make your worst nightmares cry in fear! Back away, back down! Keep that hand up, human, you can scratch yourself later. Fear me and everything I represent! With a single greasy burger I could give you all heart attacks, throw in the fries and you're dead! Bow to me, humans! Bow, bow! Bow _now."_

The patrons of the bar fell to the floor in fear and awe, hands and faces to the floor. Xigbar chuckled slightly, then went over to a portly fellow quivering in the corner.

"_Lower_!" he bellowed, but the poor man was just too fat, and, completely terrified, he fell into a dead faint.

Demyx didn't think he was ever going to stop laughing.

* * *

A/N: Sorry it's so short! So sorry, but I just COULDN'T make it go any longer. The next one will be a little longer. But I think this concludes the business trip. Sorry...

Alright, well, enjoy, review. No skipping because it's short! : )

~Akane


	15. Signs of Affection

Title: How My Boss Drove Me Insane

Author: Denoument

Warnings: Shock, heart attacks, uncontrollable stuttering, and fainting may occur. See your resident fangirl if these symptoms go away after only a few minutes, or if you feel like the world might be ending, because it probably is, and she can help you make posters. If these symptoms continue past the next few chapters, get over it and read another fanfiction. See your doctor if you die.

Disclaimer: I want you to read this chapter and let me ask you a very srious question: Did this seriously happen in the actual game? (Because if it did happen in the actual game, I want a link to the cutscene on youtube like RIGHT NOW.)

* * *

It didn't take us very long at all to get back home, even if it was a bit shaky at first. (The interterran police squad ended up towing us back home, too terrified of Xigbar's driving to even speak.)

It took us even less time to find ourselves in a huge mess back at the home office.

The following is by all accounts accurate. (No, seriously.)

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

He really had no idea why he'd fallen for Marluxia in the first place.

Looking back on it now, folly if there ever was one. _Damn_ that man.

First was the flowers. Maybe that he could have handled, could have gotten over. He was an intelligent man, and he could learn how to adapt. He could, he _would_ have adapted. But then there was a kiss. A simple kiss on the cheek that had caught him unawares just as he was leaving the house and throwing his coat on, tying up his hands just enough to ensure no resistance on his part.

This wasn't happening to him. No, really, this couldn't be happening. It was virtually impossible. Marluxia didn't show affection, and when he did, it wasn't to Vexen. There had to be an ulterior motive here, some daft reason. But as much as Vexen thought about it, the less sense it made.

There was just _no reason_ plausible for this.

Except…

No. That was ridiculous. Marluxia loved him about as much as he loved gum on the bottom of his shoe. There had to be another reason.

Bu the more he sat back and thought about it, the more his head began to ache, and the less he was getting done. Indeed, he was so distracted that he had almost blown up the whole lab when he mixed his chemicals, and this disturbed him, not least because he was usually a very calm person, but because he was a genius and things like this just didn't happen to people with that much brain capacity.

This simply had to stop, he decided, and he jotted a note to himself down in his head to remind himself.

This did have to stop, and it might as well stop tonight.

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

He was so distracted when he got home that he even forgot to perform his usual nightly routine. Instead of hanging up his coat he merely threw it in the direction of the closet, storming into the living room only to punch the off button on the TV and stand in front of it, huffing and puffing like he'd just run a mile.

Marluxia was understandably amused and bewildered.

"Why, Vexen," he said coyly, a smirk on his face. "You could have just asked."

Vexen snarled. "That's not it, you idiot."

"Then what ever is the matter?" Marluxia asked in mock concern. He threw one leg over the other and sat back in his armchair like it was a throne. Vexen gave up on his aggressive stance and went to sit in his own armchair, sitting straight-backed and angry.

"You!" he said furiously. Marluxia turned and gave him a regal smirk.

"Of course, it is, dear Vexen, but I'd like to know exactly what I've done."

And Vexen started to do something he'd never done before in his life. He began to babble incoherently. Marluxia sat and tried to pick out the words from the mess, until he finally picked something up.

"A kiss?" he said, amused. "Vexen, if you'd like to stop having sex--"

"That's not bloody well it!" Vexen growled. "Yesterday, as I was walking out the door! I don't pretend to know how your twisted mind works, but that was stepping quite over the line!"

Marluxia pretended to think back to yesterday morning, a grin on his face. He began to laugh. "You don't like signs of affection?" he said mockingly, drawing the back of his hand across Vexen's cheek. Vexen shrugged him off and sighed.

"You have absolutely no affection for me whatsoever."

Marluxia gasped in fake shock. "Now, Vexen, what a horrible thing to say!" he said, drawing his hand to his chest. Vexen grunted.

"It's true."

"What's your point, Vexen? I'm afraid I don't have all day to listen to this kind of nonsense."

Vexen relaxed in his chair and sighed, trying not to get any angrier than he already was. Being a naturally un-emotional man he had already calmed down quite a bit, but this was just ridiculous. It wasn't his fault. This all had to do with Marluxia, and Vexen had no idea what was going on.

"I'm confused. I don't appreciate being confused, and so I'd like you to either stop or explain it to me in simple terms so that I might understand the madness behind this," Vexen said suddenly, turning to look at Marluxia for the first time.

Marluxia's eyes flashed dangerously. Then they subsided into a mirthful calm. "Stop or explain," he repeated. "Indeed."

Vexen huffed, becoming irritated once more. "It's either this or I kick you out of the damn house, because I'll go mad."

Marluxia smirked again. "Do you really want to know why I'm doing this?" Vexen's eyes flashed, something Marluxia didn't miss. "Of course I'm doing this on purpose," he said arrogantly. "Whatever made you think I wasn't?"

Vexen remained silent, and Marluxia went on. "Vexen, for a while now I've had a bit of a proposition for you," he said. Vexen raised an eyebrow.

"What sort of proposition?" he asked cautiously. Marluxia smiled, a dreadful, cunning smile.

"Well, you see, Vexen, usually when you do nice things for people, it puts them in a better mood. And I must admit that this is a proposition whose refusal I would not take lightly. And so I thought that if maybe I put a bit of effort into this…relationship…it could possibly put you into a more agreeable state." He smirked. "Obviously I was mistaken, something I plan not to repeat in the near future, but no matter."

Vexen sighed. "Cut the dramatics, Marluxia. I'd like to know what all of this is about."

Marluxia's smirk became more pronounced. "And so you shall." Silently he pulled something out of his pocket and produced it to Vexen. Vexen's eyes not being quite what they were, he held it up to the light and winced as it sparkled.

Sparkled?

Marluxia began to laugh. Vexen dropped the object into the palm of his hand and looked at Marluxia in shock. "Your joke has gone much too far, Marluxia," he said. Marluxia grinned and looked up.

"No, it hasn't, Vexen," he said mirthfully.

"I want you to marry me."

* * *

A/N: Okay, so interterran police squad. I too the latin root for earth/world (can't remember) (terra) and stuck it on the end of inter- from international police...I like making words up, sorry.

Who was shocked? -raises hand- Because I sure was. Could Marluxia be growing a heart? In case you couldn't tell, that thing Vexen held up to the light was a ring. Very nice ring, too. I promise you'll find out much more about this in the next chapter.

I don't want any flames about how this is out of character. Seriously, it won't be, I'll show you. I know how to write this pairing, I'm not a complete loss for a fangirl.

As always, please be kind enough to review.

~Akane


	16. Yuffie Knows Best

Title: How My Boss Drove Me Insane

Author: Denoument

Warnings: Taxes, legal mumbo, angry coffee makers, shiny rings, mondays, one word of the french language, several thousand words of the english language in no particular order, big fluffy white dresses, and a vicious wedding planner. You have been warned.

Disclaimer: I SO TOTALLY OWN THIS IDEA. Don't nobody try and steal it. HA! Not that you could if you wanted to, I doubt any of this makes much sense to anybody but me...

_

* * *

_

_Vexen dropped the object into the palm of his hand and looked at Marluxia in shock. "Your joke has gone much too far, Marluxia," he said. Marluxia grinned and looked up._

"_No, it hasn't, Vexen," he said mirthfully._

"_I want you to marry me."_

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

Vexen's face contorted into a grimace. "No."

"Vexen, you're not thinking this through--"

"I said no, Marluxia."

Marluxia prepared a retort, then stopped. He smiled. "I see what it is."

Vexen grunted. "Do you?"

"You don't get it. Don't go getting the wrong impression, Vexen. I'm not asking you because of the usual reasons. This isn't a love confession."

Vexen's head snapped up. He looked over at Marluxia, interested. "It's not?"

"No, Vexen." Vexen relaxed in his chair and let out a sigh of relief.

Marluxia straightened his posture and leaned slightly over the arm of his chair towards Vexen. "You see, Vexen, these are difficult times we live in." Vexen's face contorted once more into confusion, something he was definitely not used to. What the hell was this? "Yes, Vexen, difficult times. I don't know if you've heard lately, but there's this thing called a 'recession', and we're in one."

What was this, a damn subject change? No way was Marluxia getting this by him. "I'm afraid I don't understand what this has to do with your uncharacteristic behavior, Marluxia," he said. Marluxia smiled and shushed him.

"You idiot. How many tax benefits do you think married couples get compared to two single men?"

That was a thought. Vexen contemplated this carefully. There really was a lot of benefit to being married. There was no way he could argue that. Tax benefits and legal changes to be thought through. It was just a fact. Legally, they would be much better off as a married couple if they insisted upon living in the same house.

"But what if we ever wanted to separate?" Vexen asked. He felt distinctly ruffled and was absolutely determined to find something wrong with this plan. Marluxia smirked.

"Vexen, it's been ten years--"

"Five," Vexen interrupted. Marluxia looked surprised.

"Really? It feels longer than that," he said. "Fine, it's been five years, and we're still living in the same house, in the same neighborhood, and we're still here together. If that was ever going to change, it would have."

"Yes, fine, but you're the romantic here. What if you up and decide to run off somewhere? I can assure you I won't waste time looking for you, and I don't want to have to go through a messy divorce proceeding. You know how much I hate paperwork," said Vexen, scowling. Marluxia thought for a moment.

"You have my complete assurance that if this doesn't work out as originally planned or I feel any inclination at all to, as you say, 'run off somewhere,' I will of course file all the paperwork myself with the exception of your signature on the paper," he said smoothly. Vexen thought about this.

"All right," he said, "but don't think that's the last thing that can go wrong with this. Suppose you did something stupid and landed in the hospital? It would become my problem. And what about everything we own? Our assets would combine and make a huge mess."

Marluxia shrugged. "There's downfalls to any plan," he said coolly. Vexen growled at him.

"And don't you dare think I'm changing my name!" he snapped, glaring at Marluxia.

"No, that's fine. I'll inform the necessary people of my name change later," he said. "You won't have to change anything."

Vexen huffed and sat in his chair, feeling angry and out of place. Finally, he turned to look at Marluxia without a glare, something he hadn't done in a very long time. Marluxia's eyes widened the tiniest amount.

"Come on, Vexen. The benefits outweigh the risks." Vexen sighed.

"Go on, then. But make it a small event, would you? There's no way in hell I'm going for a big white wedding. No legal rights in the world could make up for that," he said irritably. Marluxia smiled in triumph.

"No, of course. Just a preacher and a witness or two to sign the contract. That's all."

Vexen gave a dry laugh, shaking his head. "That had damn well better be all."

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

Yuffie looked up from the list of the shop's finances as her employee walked through the door. He waved, and she frowned.

Wasn't he cheery today.

Pulling open the door to the supply closet she began to take stock, then realized she had employees to do this kind of work and called them over while she slipped into the staff room for a nice cup of coffee.

Throwing aside a pair of handcuffs from the counter she pushed to plug into the wall socket and turned on the coffee maker, swearing loudly as it hissed at her angrily and steamed. Grabbing a cup she poured water into it and it settled down and began to brew.

She sunk down into her chair and groaned, already feeling the effects of going to work. God damn Mondays. Reaching over she grabbed a mug and the coffee pitcher and poured herself a cup.

She leaned back, threw her feet on the table, and took a sip, feeling the warmth and caffeine invade her senses.

Good stuff.

This went on for a while, until she'd fully drained her cup. She had just opened her eyes to search out the coffee pitcher again when the door opened and she pulled her feet off the table, before realizing that she owned the damn place and could do whatever she wished with the table, and threw her feet back on again. Marluxia sighed.

"Pourquoi--" Yuffie began, but Marluxia shook his head.

"You know I speak English, I told you years ago. You butcher that language, anyway," he said quickly. Yuffie nodded.

"Whatever. So why the hell are you so mood-swingy today? You walk in the door like it's Christmas and then come in here like Santa murdered your mother."

Marluxia raised an eyebrow. "What's with all the Christmas metaphors?"

"Similes, actually. I'm still bitter about last Christmas, don't ask."

"But Yuu, it's august."

Yuffie growled unhappily. "Shut the hell up or get to your point." Marluxia slid into the chair opposite her.

For the first time in Yuffie's life, she saw Marluxia at a loss for words. "Well, it's…ah…difficult to say. There's something that I need, and I don't know if I trust you to provide it…I shouldn't…"

At this, Yuffie perked up. "What, you need something from this store? Why, Marluxia, I thought you'd never ask."

Yuffie jumped up and started to flutter to the door, but stopped and turned around, a suspicious look on her face. "But I thought you lived with that old blond, Vixen? You know, like the reindeer. Or something. Right?"

"Vexen," Marluxia corrected automatically. "And I don't need something from this shop exactly. It's more like something I need from you. A favor, if you will."

Yuffie smiled menacingly, something Marluxia missed, having gotten up to fetch himself a cup of coffee. "A favor?" she asked.

"Yes," he said wearily. "A favor."

Yuffie sank back into her chair and crossed her legs on the table again. "I'm game."

Marluxia eyed her warily. "I know you are, and that's what worries me so much…"

Yuffie huffed. "I promise I'll do to the best of my ability the task you entrust to me," she vowed, holding up her right hand and nodding in conviction. Marluxia sighed, and gave up.

"I need a witness," he said resignedly. This would either be his best option or his worst. It was much too soon to tell.

Yuffie's face fell. "A witness? To what, a murder? To an attempted murder? To a murder of someone who was trying to murder someone? _In my shop?_ Oh no they don't, I'll kill them! WITNESS THIS, PUNK!" Yuffie cried, leaping out of her seat yet again and roaring towards the door. Marluxia only just managed to catch her in time.

"Yuffie! Stop this immediately!" he said, jerking her back into the room. He closed the door once more and pushed her back into her seat, where she sat, huffing and puffing.

"Yes, a witness. I need a witness because…"

There he stopped. How was he going to explain this to her? Because…

"I need to sign a legal document and the law dictates that I have a witness when I affix my signature," he said smoothly. Yuffie settled down.

"Well," she said, "if that's all." She leaned back in her chair. "Do you have it with you? Go get it, I'll witness, write my name down."

Marluxia smiled. He was in. "No, it's something you have to see before I sign, you know, an event. And the event must be performed by…someone more qualified, I'm afraid, or I'd have it done in a heartbeat, I assure you," he said. She scowled.

"What kind of event, Marly? I don't have all the time in the world to do things for you."

"It's, ah…" he trailed off. He wondered if he should tell her, but decided it was far too late.

"A sort of…wedding…" he braced himself for the impact.

"A _wedding!?_" Yuffie screeched. "Why, that's wonderful!"

Marluxia grimaced. Yes, he'd been afraid of this.

"Oh, a big, white, romantic wedding, full of flowers, of course, and a beautiful white dress…I always told you you'd find someone better, Marly? A nice girl, settle down, have tons of _gorgeous_ children, and I can be Auntie Yuffie! Oh, this is just marvelous, absolutely marvelous." She turned to him, suddenly business-like. "And of course you'll need my help in planning, I can set you up with the most wonderful set of--"

"It's still Vexen, Yuu," Marluxia interrupted. Yuffie looked deterred for a moment, but then plowed on.

"Well, that's fine, I suppose I can make that work, it'll just be a little harder making it nice and romantic, is all, you know the big white dress really _does_ set the whole thing off so nicely. But I'm the great Yuffie, I can make do with what I'm given, of course, and when you give me these materials, I can make beauty!" she cheered.

Marluxia cleared his throat, dreading this. "That's, ah, your services really won't be necessary, Yuu, I just--"

Yuffie turned and glared. "You may think you want a small, quiet wedding, but Yuffie knows better. Yuffie has your best interests at heart, and I'll make this the day of your life. Got it?"

Marluxia knew better than to disagree, and nodded vigorously. Yuffie beamed at him.

"So I'll need your sizes, and his, and don't you dare think of just not giving them to me, I'll get them one way or the other, and if I have to march into your house and strip you down and measure you both myself I will. And if I could, I'd like to know your favorite flower, it really makes things a whole lot easier, because if you don't give it to me, I'll just use _my_ favorite flower, which is daisies, but daisies look so out of place at weddings, so that'll be out and I'll be sad and throw a tantrum. So. Flower?"

"Roses," Marluxia said automatically. "Then lilac, but I really don't want a big expensive--"

"Is that what you're worried about?" said Yuffie. "Expenses? I'll have that covered. You've been my employee for ten years, Marly--"

"Five."

"Really? It feels longer than that. You've been my employee for five years, Marly, and I've grown to love you like a horrible, gay, annoying, boisterous, arrogant little brother. I only want what's best for you. You'll thank me for this later. It may be much, much later. But Yuffie is willing to wait," she said happily, already pulling out a tape measure and eyeing Marluxia. He shivered.

"Yuu," he began. She leered at him. "I need to go and inform Vexen of this, ah, drastic change in plans. Would you mind too terribly if I went to go use your phone?"

Yuffie pouted, but shook her head and pointed to the door. Marluxia strode across the room casually, pulled open the door, and stepped out, closing it behind him. He took a few steps away from the door and then broke into a dead run.

Yanking open the door to the shop he tore out of the street and up another, hurtling into a residential area. Another turn and a few blocks later, and he ripped open the door to the house where he knew Vexen was home on a business holiday and burst into the laboratory. Vexen jumped and dropped his test tube.

"You idiot!" he snarled. "What the hell do you want?"

Marluxia skipped the usual insults and got straight to the point.

"Vexen. We have to elope."

* * *

A/N: I told you, I did this right! I'm a good fangirl, I made them in character. How many fangirls do you know that could make Marluxia and Vexen get married IN CHARACTER? I've only seen a few in my entire reading/writing career. And none like this. Of course, if I'm mistaken, please, drop me a line, but I don't think I am, because I doubt anyone else is on the same plane of insanity that I am this week.

I can't believe myself. Taxes, of all things. I'm too young to pay taxes yet! Except the purchase tax...

Anyways. I updated twice this week, I couldn't help myself. I'd advise you not to get used to it, though...it will all end in tears...

Like it? Review. Love it? Review. Want to give it a bear hug and suffocate it with love? Leave an extra big review.

~Denoument


	17. The Facts Were These

Title: How My Boss Drove Me Insane

Author: Denoument

Disclaimer: Of course I own it! Would I lie to you? I mean, sure, I lie about my age, my weight, my height, my calorie intake, my caffiene intake, my name, the amount of money I have in my purse, the amount of homework I've done, WHEN I did said homework, my grades, my friends, my interests, where I live, where I work, where I'll be, what I'll be doing somewhere, how late I'll be out, and if I like you. But would I lie to you about _THIS_? Come on.

Warnings: Wedding bells a'ringin', odd mentions of forgotten subjects, buttons on a shirt all done up in the wrong buttonholes, men with pink hair, women with rifles, mild to why-the-hell-do-you-care swearing, and some random WTF moments. But that's not really a warning so much as a come-and-get-it.

* * *

Vexensputtered, dropping five more of his beakers without so much as a flinch. "We…we have to…what is…" he stuttered, hands shaking.

"Marluxia, what the _hell did you do_?"

Marluxia laughed nervously. "Yes, I thought we'd hit this. Well," he said, "I went out to find a witness, just like I promised I would, right?"

Vexen's glare remained in full force, but he appeared to be relaxing from the initial shock. "You sure better have been," he growled. Marluxia nodded, dropping the arrogant composure completely.

"I asked her, I did Vexen, but then she turned on me and told me that she knew what I wanted better than I did, and it was so hard to turn her down, Vexen, but I tried, but she's vicious, and she nearly tore my head off, and she thinks I'm still in the front room of the shop making a phone call to you, except I just had to get out of there, and--"

By this point, Vexen had abandoned the broken glass littering the floor and crossed the room to grab Marluxia roughly by the shoulders and shake him very hard. Marluxia stopped talking instantly and regained his composure, glaring. Vexen huffed.

Marluxia straightened himself and recalled his arrogant aura. "You need to begin packing, in any case," he said smartly. Vexen scowled.

"And why the hell should I?" he said irritably. There was no way his experiments would fit in a carry-on.

"Because," said Marluxia, "we're going to someplace far far away for the next few days and getting married somewhere distant."

Vexen's eyes widened in shock for a few moments, and then narrowed into a grimace. "I knew it," he said, almost to himself. Marluxia was confused.

"Knew what?"

Vexen waved his hand. "I knew you'd up and get romantic about this," he said crossly. He walked over to the corner of the room and retrieved the broom from where it leaned against the wall. It was Marluxia's turn to scowl.

"Romantic, I?" he said, puffing up his chest. Vexen turned to look at him and snorted.

"Yeah, romantic, you," he said dramatically, brandishing the broom at Marluxia half-heartedly. "And I'm not doing this to fulfill some damn romantic whim of yours. We're getting married at the nearest church with two witnesses and a preacher we've bribed to speed up the service. Got it?" he growled, turning back to the floor and sweeping.

"Vexen, haven't you been listening to me at all?"

An awful feeling of dread settled in the pit of Vexen's stomach. His compensation for this was to give the glass on the floor a particularly nasty jab with the broom. "Why would I?" he mumbled, then turned. "What the bloody hell do you want, Marluxia?"

"Now, you see Vexen," said Marluxia, who really was getting rather irritated by this point, as he was opt to when placed in such close quarters with Vexen. "It's not about what I want at all!"

Vexen laughed, a cold, dry sound. "You never do anything but whatever you want, Marluxia," he said. Marluxia quirked an eyebrow.

"Do I detect a hint of bitterness?"

"Quit being an ass."

Marluxia huffed indignantly.

"Anyway," he said arrogantly. "You're not listening to me, you bastard."

"So get to the point. What do you want, one sentence, please."

"We have to elope because if we don't, Yuffie is going to force us to have a big and elaborate wedding here, with all our friends and family present, and I would rather not witness that, just like you, I'm sure," said Marluxia.

"When I said 'one sentence', I didn't mean you could add four commas," sniped Vexen. Marluxia grinned.

"You didn't specify, dear Vexen."

"So," Vexen said irritably, sweeping. "If I managed to understand you correctly, which I'm almost entirely sure I did, and entirely wish I haven't, we have to be married in a foreign location because you were a blithering imbecile and blabbed to an egotistical maniacal woman about our secret plans, and she made a fuss--as was to be expected, I'm sure--and decided for you that she was going to take this irreplaceably into her own hands?"

Marluxia thought for a moment. "Yes," he said firmly. He ignored the insults peppered into the statement and grinned. "There's one more thing," he said quickly. Vexen scowled and stood up straight, angry.

"What the hell!" he groused, sweeping a piece of glass alarmingly close to Marluxia's shin. Marluxia chuckled.

"Don't answer the door."

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

Axel shifted uncomfortably. Roxas looked up curiously. "Axel?"

"I just…ah, it's nothing," he decided, smiling. Roxas blinked, then nodded.

"Whatever."

"But…it kind of required your input, I suppose…"

Roxas sighed. He decided to go with it. "Yes, Axel?"

"I just feel a little uncomfortable that we're having Demyx plan the whole wedding, is all," he muttered, looking down and away from Roxas. The blond snorted.

"You want to pick out napkin colors and flower combinations?" he said, amused. Axel laughed.

"No, no. That's not it," he said. "I just…there are some important details, right? Shouldn't we be handling them?"

Roxas scoffed. "What important details?"

Axel ran his free hand through his hair, tightening his grip around Roxas's shoulders as the smaller boy leaned against him. "Well, like…the guest list…" he said hesitantly. Roxas sighed.

"You're worried about your parents," he said. It wasn't a question, but a statement. Axel sighed and nodded.

"Yeah, obviously."

Roxas laughed and nudged Axel. "They'll come. And if they don't, we'll send them a nasty postcard and address it as Mr. and Mr. Pire, and we'll get a kick out of it. How's that?"

Axel grinned. "You mean it?"

"Uh-huh. Sure."

"And you're gonna take that name, huh?"

Roxas shuddered. "I don't even want to talk about _my_ last name."

"Nah, it's cute!"

Roxas glared. "No, it's not."

"Roxas H--"

"Don't you dare say it!" he cried, trying to slap his hand over Axel's mouth. The red-head, being significantly taller, was able to dodge this.

"Roxas Hart."

Roxas slumped against him in defeat. "I'm going to marry you just so I can divorce you and take your name, because you're a jerk," he mumbled. Axel laughed.

"What's so bad about it?"

"I feel like I'm in _Chicago_." Axel's eyes widened.

"Roxie Hart…I'd forgotten, that was her name…"

Roxasturned and gave him an innocent smile. "You'd better be careful, Mr. Fred Casely."

Axel laughed. "Touché."

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

Yuffie smiled from where she sat at the table, looking over bills and small slips of paper with an alarmingly chipper attitude. This was going spectacularly well, she thought, drumming her fingers against the table. Amazingly well, too good to last.

But damn it, she'd _make_ it last.

Even with Marluxia's fantastic ideas of escape this morning, everything was really turning out just as she'd hoped it would.

But then, he'd had a change of heart. Most people did when they were facing the business end of Yuffie's rifle.

There was a shuffling noise in the corner.

Yuffie cocked the gun and pointed it into the dark corner, growling.

"Shut it, Marly."

The man could only whine and struggle against the ropes that held him.

Yes, this was all going perfectly to plan.

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

Demyx's manicured fingernails snapped against the keys as he composed yet another e-mail. Pausing to choose a word, he added a few more sentences and sent it off with a click and leaned back in his seat to yawn and stretch.

The door to the adjoining office opened to reveal a disgruntled silver-haired man, dark blue half moons under his eyes and his hair in a disorganized mess. His tie hung half off his shoulders and a button on his shirt had come undone. He held his suit jacket over one arm pitifully. Demyx sighed kindly.

"Xemnas," he said. He tutted and turned around in his seat to fully face his boss. "How long has it been since you last went home?"

Xemnas ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "I don't know, Demyx," he replied. His voice had an added tone of fatigue. "I got here yesterday morning from home. Maybe two days?"

"Xemnas!" Demyx cried. "It's the end of the work day today! Go home, get some rest," he said sternly. Xemnas grunted.

"Just one more client, Demyx. Then I promise I'll head home."

Demyx gave him an unyielding look. "What about the wife and kids?"

This caused Xemnas to falter for a few moments. "Demyx?" he said cautiously.

"Yes?"

"I haven't got an kids. Or a wife."

Demyx sighed. "It was worth a try to pull out the guilt card."

Xemnas actually smiled at Demyx. "One more client," he promised. "And then I'm done."

Demyx sighed in resignation. Against a workaholic like Xemnas, he wasn't going to win. "At least fix your outfit," he allowed. Xemnas gave him a blank look. Standing, Demyx made his way over to him and began to take off his tie.

"You're absolutely useless at this," he muttered, loosening the knot and undoing it, giving the ends an admonishing but gentle pull. Xemnas, who _was_ rather useless at this, and also at balance, stumbled a bit.

Of course, this was the exact moment that Xigbar chose to stride purposefully through the door for no reason at all.

I now ask you to imagine the scene before you. Demyx and Xemnas, standing close together. Xemnas has his hands on Demyx's shoulders so that he doesn't fall, being as useless at balance as he is, his tie is draped around his neck carelessly. Demyx, who had realized that Xemnas had obviously dressed himself in that dark that morning, was in the act of undoing the top half of his shirt, because he'd gotten the buttons all one out of line and it needed to be redone by someone who knew what they were doing. Xemnas's jacket lays on the floor, dropped and forgotten. His hair is a mess, and his clothes are distinctly ruffled.

I think we all know what happened next.

* * *

A/N: I'm so sorry about the Chicago jibe! I couldn't help it, I really couldn't, I'm so sorry...but damn, that was funny. xD I watched it the other day, and just couldn't stop myself. Ah, fun times. Go watch the movie.

You thought I'd forgotten all about the original purpose of this story, didn't you? About the Xemyx. And to be honest...I did. Whoops. But, if you look closely at your next FanGirl Guide, you'll see that crack pairings from another dimension has been added to your listed programings for your personal enjoyment.

Read, love, review. It's all I ask.

~Denoument


	18. Invitations and Locks

Title: How My Boss Drove Me Insane

Author: Denoument

Disclaimer: If I owned this, the skies would be purple, sand would be blue, and Axel would be real. Why? Because you fangirls would be paying me enough money to make it happen. Look out the window, fool. Purple yet? Didn't think so.

Warnings: Picking locks, the destruction of pens, Lexaeus speaking, Lexaeus NOT speaking, Demyx being slightly not really intelligent, Xemnas and unmarked liquids, tissue paper, lace, bows, date, calendars being checked, and improper time alignment with the rest of the world, because I had this all planned out, and then failed to get it done on time. Pretend it's still July.

* * *

Vexen felt the odd urge to cackle as he picked up the ball point pen, though nothing about this situation was at all funny. Clicking it lightly, he wrenched the clip away from the body of the pen, until he was holding them in two parts. Tossing the pen itself over his shoulder, he smirked at the pen clip. Perfect.

Pulling one of the many hairpins he was using to keep his long hair out of his face, he pulled it straight and bent it at the tip. Sticking first the pen clip, then the hairpin into the lock in front of him, he pushed the hairpin around gently, until he heard a faint 'click' sound. He pushed the door open and bit back a smile that was threatening to show.

Here he was.

The room was completely spotless but for a formal, pink envelope, which was sitting a little lopsided on the desk in the center of the room. This Vexen snatched and tore open, reading the contents just like he had with dozens of identical letters, and then stuffed it into his pocket without much ado. Reaching into his other pocket, he pulled out a list, retrieved the pen from where he'd tossed it onto the floor, and crossed out a single name.

Checking down the list, he counted how many more he had to do before he was done, and inwardly groaned. Ten more. He hadn't known he'd _had _that many co-workers. Dammit.

Slinking back across the room, he bent the hairpin into its original shape and pushed it back into his hair discreetly. Snapping the clip back onto the pen, he pushed it into his breast pocket and flipped the lock on the door, pulling it shut behind his as he left the room.

Ten more.

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

Lexaeus was unhappy at this time in the morning. However, as he was hardly any different at any other specified time of day, this couldn't be considered out of character in the least, and so it was consequently ignored.

And with his air of unhappiness came a sense of great purpose in the word, and a dreadful feeling that he was wasting it away in the most banal and inconsequential of jobs. This both terrified and greatly amused him, and so it was given so little thought that it was almost tangibly _un_thought-of.

And with this sense of great purpose came a mop, and a broom, and a duster, all neatly stacked on a little cart about half the size of the man himself, and this he pushed from room to room idly, wiping at dist mites on the tables and smears on the windows like it all meant something, which he liked to think it did, in the grand scheme of things.

But then Axel and Roxas would walk by, and remind him that there _was_ no grand scheme of things, because he was the sole janitor of a small not-for-profit organization dealing with matters he could really care less about.

And that brought the world into perspective again, which lead once more to his general discontent to the world around him in a big circle tht actually looked a bit more like a blob of overall angst.

But one day, as he returned to his office to do some reflecting on his break about the world and all its big, wide, emptiness, he found a small, pink envelope, sitting neatly on his small desk, and when he picked it up he realized it must be for something formal, because letters from your mother didn't generally come edged in lace and addressed in loopy handwriting. Not Lexaeus's mother's letters, anyhow.

Sliding his finger under the edge of the paper, he slit it open neatly in a surprisingly graceful gesture for a man of his burly stature. Gently pulling out the piece of tissue paper inside, he did his utmost not to tear it as he peered at the words on it.

"Guest," it read cheerily, in dazzling pink cursive. He pulled out a sturdy pair of reading glasses and situated them above the bridge of his nose.

"Messrs. _Vexen Carr _and _Marluxia Bourgeon _request the honour of your presence at the celebration of their wedding.

Thursday, the thirteenth of August,

two thousand and nine,

at four o'clock in the afternoon.

At the Garden Pavilion,

411 West Cathedral Blvd,

Radiant Garden, world of Hollow Bastion.

Reception to follow.

The favor of a reply is requested before the fifth of August.

R.S.V.P. to _Yuffie Nero_."

Lexaeus stared at this for quite some time, in a bit of a shock. He'd had no idea that Vexen was getting married, or even that'd he'd had a suitor, which disconcerted him greatly, as he had previously believed that he'd known Vexen well.

This mystified him so thoroughly that he sank back into the chair behind his desk, lost in contemplative meditation.

He was missed only an hour later, when Demyx, who had paged poor Lexaeus more times than he cared to repeat, clicked down the stairs in his heels and rapped smartly on the door. Lexaeus was jolted out of his reflections, and he opened the door.

"Lexaeus," said Demyx patiently, a virtue he'd all but mastered in the face of anything but traffic. "I've asked you dozens of times to come up to Xemnas's office; he's spilled something I can't identify, and we--" He stopped. Startled, he looked again. "Lexaeus, what are you holding?"

The janitor, thoroughly confused and unhappy at the prospect of mopping up an unintelligible spill from the pure white carpet of Xemnas's newly refurbished office, only grunted and shoved the envelope into Demyx's hand, choosing not to bother with the hassle of speaking.

As a side note, I once asked Lexaeus the reason for his silence. His answer was this. "I perceive it to be arduous for the layman to fathom my often abstruse method of verbal communication." Roughly translated, this amounts to "People don't understand me when I talk."

But that's an entirely different story.

Demyx lifted the flap on the envelope with care, extracting the fragile contents with concentration. He began to read the print, his eyes growing wider and wider.

"Lexaeus," he began, "I'm sure there's been a mistake in the print?" Lexaeus shook his head mutely. "No?" Demyx said worriedly. "Really…Vexen himself?"

Lexaeus nodded. Demyx ran his fingers across the lace. "But if so, why didn't I receive an invitation? Nor Xemnas, or anyone else except you. Could it be a practical joke?" Lexaeus thought for a moment, then shook his head. Demyx nodded. "No, you're right. It's too complicated. In which case, I suppose the most logical reason…" Lexaeus looked up in curiosity.

"…is that it got lost in the mail!" Demyx chattered, smiling brightly. The janitor paused and gave a sigh. Some people will always think what they want to think.

But as Demyx clattered off to go make copies and send them across the building, Lexaeus the janitor began to get one of his very bad feelings.

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

"What date do we have it on, then?" asked Roxas, turning off the television. Axel looked up in bewilderment. The TV was hardly ever turned off during their work hours.

"Roxas?" he asked, confused. Roxas sighed and nodded blankly to himself.

"The date, Axel," he said patiently, like he was waiting for a toddler to understand a basic concept. "Of the wedding."

"Ah." Axel frowned. This was the most important decision, he felt, because it was the only one Demyx was allowing them to make. "In August, sometime," he said at last, throwing a look in Roxas's direction.

"That's next month," Roxas replied. Axel nodded. "Okay. Let's make it during the week. A Thursday, maybe. Yes?" Axel nodded again. Roxas smiled, pulling a calendar over from the wall, flipping the bottom page. "That's…six, thirteen, twenty, twenty-seven," he said after a while. Axel hummed a bit.

"Thirteenth," he said. Roxas nodded.

"The thirteenth of August it is, then."

-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-.:.-

Demyx entered the information carefully onto the computer. The software prompted him for a date. He began to search the Lexaeus's wedding invitation.

"Date, date," he said to himself. "Aha!" he said, pointing his finger at a spot on the tissue paper invite.

"_Thursday, the thirteenth of August."_

A/N: It's is SO still July. You know it. (It's actually August 22nd as I write this, for future reference.) I tried to do this before akuroku day, but I failed. Oh well.

You guys are so good at guessing! Every chapter I get some smart reviewer who guesses what I'm going to do before I do it, and puts it in suggestion form. Like, for instance, "Wouldn't it be cool if ___ and ___ did ___?" and I go "Dammit! I had that down!" and it makes me look like I'm taking suggestions on my own story. xD But don't stop doing it!!!! Just know that I have this saga all planned out for once...yes...it's gonna be good.

Read, love, review.

~Akane

* * *


	19. Some of the Best

Title: How My Boss Drove Me Insane

Author: Denoument

Disclaimer: Any and all use of characters not owned by the writer of this story is acceptable due to section 15 paragraph 2 of the document "Because I Say So." Any and all complaints against the use of non-owned characters may be channeled into a review. Thanks very much.

Yes, there is method to my madness. Chapter 19 (Xemyx, 1-9) is going up on Xemyx Day, 01/09/10. I AM that clever. (No, it was actually because I got writer's block, but I'm back now, and so is the calamity.)

Warnings: Triskaidecophobes may want to leave the room. Thank you. Also, people with allergies to lace may find their symptoms worsening.

* * *

Demyx stopped typing. It couldn't be. Not the thirteenth of August. Axel had just phoned him yesterday with the news, _their _wedding was to be on the thirteenth. No. No. This couldn't be happening.

Hesitantly he picked up the telephone receiver. Dialing in a number off the invitation in front of him, he held his breath as the phone on the other end began to ring.

"Yes?" said a chipper voice on the other end. Demyx cleared his throat.

"Is this Yuffie? I'm calling because of an invitation I received," Demyx said politely. A pause.

"You actually got the invitation?" she said incredulously. "I thought for sure Vexen would steal them." She was, in fact, at the table in her sitting room making more invitations, though Demyx couldn't possibly know this.

"He did," said Demyx happily, having found a kindred soul to confide in. (Women just sense these things, and Demyx was very far on his way to being one.) "But he forgot one, and I made copies."

Yuffie squealed in delight. "Really?" Could there possibly be another person in the world with the same disregard for personal boundaries that she herself possessed?

"Yes."

They chatted for a while about clothes, and weddings, and planning weddings, and clothes, and hair, and makeup, and clothes, until finally they were so exhausted from socializing they hung up the phones, each in a much better mood than they had been at the start of the conversation a good three hours previous. It was only after setting down the receiver and reflecting on just how spectacular he felt at the moment that Demyx remembered his original purpose for calling.

_Damn it._

* * *

Vexen thrust the phone into Marluxia's face irritably. "Make it stop," he said, retreating into his lab. Marluxia puzzled over this for a moment, but then the phone in his hand gave a jarring ring, and he answered it. "Hello?"

"Marluxia, hang up and I castrate you," the voice on the other end said menacingly. Marluxia grimaced.

"Why, hello, Yuu," he said with distaste. "What is it now?"

"I need a best man," she said quickly, having learned the hard way that her threats wouldn't work for long, and she had, at the most, another five minutes on the phone in which to get her business done.

"I'm disinclined to volunteer," said Marluxia curtly. Yuffie snarled into the phone.

"For you, you _salaud_."

Marluxia frowned. "That's not a very nice word, is it?"

"Who do you want for your best man, Marly? And Vexen, who does he want?"

Marluxia's eyes flashed. "Surprise us, Yuffie. I don't give a--"

"Righto," she interrupted. He hung up.

"Who was it, Marluxia?" shouted Vexen from his lab.

"No one," Marluxia called.

* * *

Yuffie smirked as she climbed the stairs to the second floor of the office building. Coming out of the stairwell, she located a door on the right side of the hallway and rapped sharply on it with her knuckles. Hearing a weary "Come in," from inside, she pushed open the door and gave a winning smile.

Demyx stood poised with a letter opener clutched discreetly in his palm under the desk, but he replaced it in the pencil holder when he saw Yuffie at the door. "Here to see Xemnas?" he asked, businesslike. Yuffie pulled out the chair in front of Demyx's desk and sat down, extending a hand. Demyx took it and shook it politely.

"You, actually," she said succinctly, crossing her legs. "We have some things to discuss, right?"

Demyx's eyes flashed suddenly. "Yuffie?"

"Now, who else?"

* * *

Two hours, three coffees, and no less than twenty-seven sticky-notes later (damned if the stuff wasn't genius--glue on the backs of paper!), the woman and the arguably feminine male were at an end to their business deal.

"And I'm sure you'll have plenty of luck with it," Yuffie was saying, corralling all her possessions back into a pile and scooping them into her purse. Demyx nodded thoughtfully.

"Luck favors the prepared mind," he said sagely. She nodded wisely, as if it made any sense to her. There was a bit of a silence in the room: no one knew what to say next.

"I'm so glad you're helping me out like this," she said suddenly. He beamed at her.

"Xemnas will be overly delighted, I'm sure," he said cheerily. She nodded thoughtfully, frowning.

"At least this is one less thing I'll have to take care of. Are you sure you're okay, telling him all by yourself?"

Demyx's eyes flashed momentarily. "Yuffie, you doubt me?"

"Not at all, no," she said curtly, "but you scare me just the tiniest bit."

And with that, she swept out the door with a melodramatic swish.

* * *

The door to Xemnas's office swung open quietly.

The CEO himself was poorly trained at this sort of thing, and was scrambling for the nearest blunt object when Demyx cleared his throat loudly. Comforted by no immediate signs of Xigbar, Xemnas relaxed.

Demyx smiled. "He's with the janitor at the moment, trying to install a taser on the downstairs emergency exit. According to him, if someone tries to open the door without a fire alarm going, the unwitting victim will get a nasty shock."

Xemnas digested this information with a remarkable amount of composure. There was a long silence. "He is, I suppose, our security guard," he said at last. Demyx nodded. "Was there anything you wanted?"

"Yes, sir," said Demyx quickly. Loosening the light jacket he wore around his waist (it was unseasonably chilly that year) he reached into the pocket of his skirt and withdrew what looked like a mound of lace. This he held out to Xemnas, who took it gingerly, as if it might hurt him.

"_Messrs. Vexen Carr and Marluxia Bourgeon request the honour of your presence at the celebration of their wedding,_"he read out. Demyx nodded.

"Well, I just thought, it's going to be a pretty big event."

Xemnas looked unperturbed at this. "And?" he prompted. Demyx blushed.

"I mean, Yuffie is inviting a whole bunch of very important people."

Xemnas peered at the card. "Yuffie Nero?"

"That's the one. And I thought, you know, your--that is, our, or, uh, _the _business runs basically on donations, right?"

Xemnas nodded. "Donations from wealthy men, or people with incurable diseases hoping for a miracle."

Demyx bit his lip for a moment, and compulsively straightened out his skirt. "So, I guess, if someone relies completely on the donations of important people, they should probably make themselves look good, right?"

"You've just summed up an entire class I took in college. Business Propaganda 101. Good professor, I liked Professor Spinner."

"Then it makes sense that a person who wants to look good in the eyes of important people should go to events where important people will be present. Be seen at the right occasions, I suppose I'm trying to say."

Xemnas peered over his coffee cup at Demyx. "Does this all have a point?"

"Y-Yes," Demyx stuttered, inexplicably nervous. "You see the invitation?"

"I'd have to be blind not to, though the lace does add a rather glaring effect."

"I did an RSVP for you."

"I see!" said Xemnas thoughtfully. "You're right, I hadn't even thought about it. This could bring in donations much more quickly…I like the way you think."

"That's not all, sir."

Xemnas looked up warily. "Not all?"

"No, sir. You see, it's not good enough to just go to an occasion like this. Think of how much more popular you'd be if you openly showed your support here! I mean, the groom--one of them, I mean,--does happen to work for you. Wouldn't it look good to show some support?"

"Yes, I suppose. Do you think I should bring a gift?"

Demyx paused pensively. "Yes, I guess you should. But I've, uh, taken some initiative on this level, if you don't mind."

"What kind of initiative, Demyx?"

"You're also the best man."

* * *

A/N: Ah, yes. Cliff-hanger. What will he say to that? (Okay, I suck at cliff hangers, but no one likes them anyway.)

Tune in later for the next installment of "Xemnas: One of the Best."

Coming soon to a theater near you.

(Unless you live in Africa. Or something.)

~Akane


	20. Ice Packs

Title: How My Boss Drove Me Insane

Author: Denoument

Disclaimer: When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a teacher, and a mommy, and an airplane pilot, and a waitress, and a princess, and a duchess, and an adventurer, and a cat. I did not want to be a video game designer that kills off awesome people to progress a Disney-centered story line that makes no sense in terms of canon. So, no. I most likely did not grow up to be Nomura. (The cat thing is still possible, though.)

Notes: I told myself I wasn't going to do this. I said I would set aside time every week to add to this, if I liked it or not. And then what did I do? I went and _forgot about it_. I'm a horrible person, I don't deserve forgiveness...so I've rewarded your patience by bring back an element I loved about the original plans for this story that were wildly ignored.

So sorry...

* * *

At some point in his life Xemnas had made the discovery of a very important life lesson. For years he had lived by it and sworn by it, and when asked, he revealed it to be mostly the work of one person in his life:

His mother.

Xemnas's mother was the chairwoman of a large company, the winner of five consecutive years of a marathon, a cancer survivor, the head of PTA at three different schools and the vice president at another, and the mother of thirteen children. She urged her children to follow her down the road of perfection, and was rarely to be satisfied with anything else. It was from her that Xemnas had learned this lesson:

When life gets you down, stay the hell down until life goes away.

This was not, of course, to say that Xemnas was in any way suicidal, because he wasn't. He did, however, possess a healthy amount of skepticism and an unwavering loyalty to the law. In fact, what the saying meant can be described simply as a deep-rooted unwillingness Xemnas had to fight his destiny.

So when he learned of his new higher role in a production he hadn't even previously considered attending, he made a few mental adjustments and deftly rolled with the punches.

"Demyx, what a wonderful idea you've had," he said courteously. He clapped Demyx on the back and winced a little as Demyx paled and tottered precariously on his heels.

And fell.

He instinctively moved to catch the boy (girl?), but his hands merely grasped the air desperately, and Demyx toppled to the floor unceremoniously in a crumpled heap.

Xemnas hesitated, unsure which twisted portion of Demyx to touch that would be in any way helpful (was that his leg, or his arm?), when the secretary let out a howl of pain and straightened himself out forcefully. Xemnas crouched down uselessly and pawed at the air tentatively.

"Is it--is something--that is, what--" he stuttered. "What…?"

Demyx whined piteously and withdrew his heel-clad ankle from the depths of his skirt. He pointed at it limply. "I…I think I may have shattered it," he said. Xemnas sighed.

"Let me see," he said carefully, touching Demyx's ankle gently. Demyx hissed melodramatically and clenched his fists as Xemnas prodded at the swelling joint.

"I'll take off your shoe, then we'll get you some ice," he said firmly, and he began to tug at the laces of Demyx's heels.

* * *

"Roxas…" Axel whined. The blond looked up from his paperwork, annoyed.

"What?" he hissed. "I have to get this done."

Axel sighed laboriously. "Well, I'm done with my bit. What did you want me to do with it?"

Roxas rolled his eyes. "Go and give it to Demyx, or something. Just run it up. If you wait ten minutes, you can run up my stuff too."

Axel quieted and waited. Picking up a paperclip, he bent it and folded the ends together. Slinging a rubber band though the loop, he began to devise ways of shooting it across the room and onto Roxas's desk. He was just starting to get close when Roxas straightened up, threw his papers together, and held them up. Axel dashed over, snatched them from his hands, and ran out the door, eager to be free.

He climbed up the steps to Xemnas's office carefully, anxious not to be caught on any of the video cameras (he and Roxas had a bet going on), and threw open the door, half expecting the instant need to dodge projectiles.

When none were forthcoming, he straightened and opened his eyes, and realized that Demyx wasn't in the outer office. That in itself was not odd, as he was often gone on errands, but just as Axel was about to place the papers in the secretary's in-tray, he heard noises coming from the next office over.

Well, Roxas _had _said to deliver them.

* * *

It was therefore quite a shock to all included when Axel pushed the door open onto the scene.

Xemnas paused, delicately holding Demyx's ankle, and, being rather intelligent, grasped the enormity of the situation rather quickly.

Demyx, on the floor, obviously shaken, skirt ridden up. Xemnas, on the floor next to the blond, his hands cradling Demyx's foot, working on the straps.

It would indeed look to anyone who didn't know any better that Xemnas was in the process of undressing his secretary.

Well, that was just ridiculous, and he was about to make a comment to this effect when Axel burst out laughing.

The redhead clutches his arms in mirth, his head falling and his shoulders shaking uncontrollably. Demyx looked rather frightened about the whole thing, and this, Xemnas decided, really wasn't helping matters at all.

"Axel," he said sharply. Axel stopped laughing at once, though the grin didn't disappear. Xemnas gritted his teeth and moved on. "We are in need of some ice. Perhaps you could fetch it for us?"

Demyx flushed and Axel's grin grew even wider. He rolled his eyes, placed the paperwork neatly on Xemnas's desk, and strode confidently through the door.

"Oh, hell no. I'm not fueling your fetishes."

And he closed the door smartly and left.

* * *

A/N: Yes, yes, it's short. I know. I just wanted to prove to you all that I has remembered this...I'm such a bad author.

By the way: Razori is not working on this project anymore. The story will not be moved again, as this was a joint idea, and the quality will remain as questionable as before, but the ideas may seem shoddy and unworked, and I apologize if they are. (I'm afraid I was the dreamer, and she kept me grounded, so if my ideas come straight from the clouds, don't be surprised.) If I'm truthful, she left a long time ago...but that's alright, I've always written it myself based off of joint ideas. I can handle this...

As always, I hope you enjoyed it.

Read, love, review.

~Akane


End file.
